The Raid on Ravenwing Bog
by thesilverhyena
Summary: This story takes place several years before the events of IYNMs. Sir Arthur and his knights have received word of a horrifying place Nightmare Enterprises uses to turn innocent people into demon beasts for the war. Guided by a shady turncoat and learning about a highly valuable and exceptionally dangerous prisoner, do they dare enter the asylum?
1. Introductions

The Raid on Ravenwing Bog Part 1

By: TheSilverhyena

WARNING! Contains:: Strong Language, Violence, Graphic Description of Gore, Betrayals afoot, and an Insane, Bloodthirsty Young Halfling Girl... with a Few Unlikely Friends.

'It is the height of the Galactic War. Both the G.S.A. and Nightmare Enterprises have suffered heavy casualties, but unlike our adversary, my soldiers aren't spawned from sorcery. My second in command and my best friend, is still missing in action, there's been no word or sign of him for months. The demon beasts have already restored their numbers, and at an alarming rate. But this war isn't lost yet. I've received intelligence of a place where the enemy is rebirthing his demon army, on a distant planet called Horva. It is always the leaders who are forced to make the hard decisions: if we are to raid this mysterious fortress, it would mean calling off the search for my friend, for I'll need every soldier under my command that I can spare. I've made my decision, with a heavy heart, I cannot risk trading the lives of many for the life of one... Sir Meta Knight... please forgive me.'

The Turmoil of Sir Arthur

*Outside the Ravenwing Bog Lunatic Asylum*

If the G.S.A. had to give Nightmare Enterprises points for anything, it would be their creativity and ingenuity. A place filled with test subjects that the world had abandoned and wouldn't miss in the middle of a muggy, slimy, stink ridden, insect, and undead infested bog that no one in their right mind would want to venture into; pretty clever.

The stone walls surrounding the place were thick, well maintained, and topped with razor wire to prevent any would-be fence jumpers. There were very few entrances, save the obvious one right up front. Within these well-fortified walls was the target, a small, square-shaped keep. Well, actually it may have been a keep at one time, but it had since been converted into an asylum for the mentally, criminally and in all other ways insane. Cries of pain and anguish echoed throughout the swamp, originating from that house of horrors, creating an eerie atmosphere. A heavy feeling hung heavy in the air, or perhaps it was just the stink of waterlogged plants and rotting flesh.

Going in for a full, frontal assault in their current condition would have been suicide, not to mention put many potential innocent lives at risk. This called for a sneak attack on the ground, which meant trudging through the dank, murky swamp on foot to hide their presence. The leader of the small attack force, who looked like nothing more then a green puffball in (once upon a time, maybe) gleaming, gold armor and white cloak, turned back to face the rest of his group. There were about twenty foot soldiers, three more armored and cloaked puffballs like himself, one green with a red mohawk loading a hunting crossbow, another who was light teal blue carrying a battle ax with a medic cross on the back of his cape, and the last one who was magenta in color with a dark red ponytail, armed with a sword and crossbow himself. Each warrior had a star shaped badge pinned on one of their shoulder guards. Then there was their guide who helped lead them here, the one who dropped the tip in the first place.

The mysterious man who had assisted the G.S.A. as of yet was a disgruntled employee of the asylum, he had told Sir Arthur himself when they met on the boarders of the bog. Well, perhaps "man" was the wrong word, he was actually a member of a humanoid race called a halfling, which were usually considered short, just not around puffballs, it seemed. At only half the size of a human, he was still the tall one in the group. He had messy black hair, even on the tops of his bare feet, several gold piercings in his ears and even a few on his face, and he always had this sly, fox-like grin. What was more, he seemed incredibly leery of Sir Dragato and his prized silver blade. Since his "resignation" from the employ of Nightmare Enterprises, he had since dumped his white orderly uniform and didn't wear much besides a witty graphic t-shirt and plain trousers. Despite it being a time of war, the guy didn't seem to worried about personal protection, seeing as he didn't even carry any weapons, let alone wear any armor. Firekreg was very calm and collected, just standing there smoking a cigarette while they made their plans.

"How do we know you're not leading us into a trap, Firekreg?" Sir Arthur demanded, taking a moment to swat at one of the insects trying to burrow it's way under his armor, "You have, after all, admitted to not only be a part of Nightmare Enterprises but also a thief."

Their halfing guide let out a mock gasp, giving his new pals from the G.S.A. a shocked expression, "What? You still don't trust me? Not even after I helped you kill off those zombies back there? Oh... I'm hurt, my good sir knight."

"Good way to cover your true intentions, I should think." muttered the blue puffball, under his breath, "Help us kill off a few minor demon beasts... with the knife you stole right off my belt. I wonder what else you'd be willing to swipe from us."

It wasn't exactly much of a secret that none of the G.S.A. soldiers could ever fully trust a Nightmare Enterprises turncoat. Firekreg just scoffed to himself, his keen ears picking up on the remark, _'oh trust me, if I wanted to kill you... you'd be dead.'_

"You're still breathing, aren't you, Nonny'?" snorted the green puffball with the crossbow as he slowly approached the front gates to the asylum, "Hey Dragato, do you think you could-?" he was suddenly cut off by two things happening at once.

"Not that way, Falspar!" Firekreg growled, growing more and more irritated with this group of soldiers by the minute.

Okay, so that was the first thing, the second thing was the large cluster of ravenous zombies, like the ones they killed earlier, pressing themselves against the gates and reaching out with their clawed, grotesque hands to grab the tasty little morsel that willingly delivered himself to them.

"SHIT!" Falspar yelped, jumping back out of range of the snarling fiends.

"I told you, not through the front door!" Firekreg sighed, flicking his cigarette butt into the zombie cluster, "Did I not say that?" he asked, looking back to Nonsurat and Dragato with a shrug.

Knights! It was often difficult to get them to shift gears and think like a thief for once! To much honor and nobility wasn't good for the soul... or a long life for that matter.

"To be fair, he did warn us about the zombies inside the compound." Dragato pointed out, cringing as more and more of the fiends gathered at the gates, "Nasty things I understand. Never seen one up close until now. Thought they were just an urban myth. One bite, and you become one."

"Care to test your theory, Dragato?" Falspar asked in a joking tone, "Just give one of em' a pat on the head and find out."

Sir Dragato turned to his joking companion with an annoyed expression beneath his mask. Just like the bard to crack stupid jokes at a time like this.

"You first." Dragato answered.

"Hmph, the zombies aren't what bother me." Firekreg mentioned.

"Pfttt... you mean you're not scared of a walking undead virus?" Falspar snorted, his gaze shifting back to the gates where the ravenous horde snarled and groaned.

"Nope. It's their creator and his pal I'm scared of." Firekreg muttered to himself with a shudder.

Nervously, Firekreg looked up to one of the dimly lit towers. All the mad doctor had to do was look outside and see all his fiends gathering near the front gate to realize that they had guests, unwanted guests at that. After asking Sir Arthur, politely, to gather up his troops, Firekreg led the small task force around the back of the fortress. It was a rather difficult and unpleasent hike, cutting through the branches, brambles, and trudging through the water and mud.

"So... how exactly did you get out of here-" Sir Arthur asked, pausing to cut a thorny bush out of their way, "-without incident?"

"Well, let's just say I have my ways," Firekreg answered, stepping on what may have been a canine-like track in the mud, "plus I didn't have thirty soldiers traipsing behind me, either." he added, in a low mutter.

Meanwhile, Sir Nonsurat had a few words to say to his other two companions, in a low tone, mind you, "I still don't really trust that guy. He's been... secretive, and I don't think he's told us everything. You ask me, he's hiding something. Just look at him."

"Hmmm, I don't know, I kind of like him." Falspar shrugged, smirking, "He let me bum a cigarette off him too."

"You would, Falspar." Dragato sighed, shaking his head.

"How can we trust someone who used to torture innocent people and turn them into demon beasts?!" Nonsurat asked, in a low whisper.

Firekreg stopped and turned around upon overhearing that remark, "Hey... I had nothing to do with that! That... that was all on Knarks and his buddy! When I found out about what exactly they were doing, that's when I ran... and came and found you! Remember, you guys wouldn't even KNOW about this place had it not been for me!" he retorted.

For a brief moment, the halfling's eyes took on a strange, animalistic sheen, so quickly that it was easy to miss. Firekreg calmed himself down, though his annoyance at Nonsurat's accusation could still be felt by those around him.

"So... zombies wandering around in the compound and demon beasts didn't raise any red flags right away?" Sir Dragato inquired.

"Ummm... no, not for the first week or so, anyways. They usually just... left me alone. I've only been here for three weeks! Okay?! War is hell and the demon beasts and undead work as a great 'KEEP OUT' sign. Besides, I needed the paycheck."

Arthur made a calming gesture towards his officers. While he may have had his own doubts about Firekreg, especially with all the holes left unfilled in his stories, he had led them safely this far. Finally, the group came to a stop in front of an old sewer drain set into the surrounding wall that came from the asylum fortress. If it was possible for the smell to get any worse, it was, causing a few of the foot soldiers to loose their last meals.

"Well, I know it's not pretty, but-HEY!" Firekreg yelped, as he reached to open up the previously loosened drainage grate, " Fuck me! That wasn't there when I left!"

"No thanks, you're not my type." Sir Falspar muttered, taking a look down the drain.

Bogged down in the muck and Gods-know-what-else were two more snarling zombies, mindlessly reaching out with their hands, trying to grab at the intruders.

"Sir Falspar, Sir Dragato, if you please." Sir Arthur requested, stepping back.

"On it, boss." Falspar said, sounding far too cheery given their circumstances.

He and Dragato took aim and each fired a bolt from their crossbows into the fiend's heads, killing them instantly. Once they were sure they were dead, Firekreg, Falspar, and Dragato pulled the dead bodies out of the sludge to make room for their unit to get inside.

"I recognize these people..." Firekreg mentioned, bending down to examine the bodies, "Charlotte and Drakeo, they were two of the patients I used to look after, until they mysteriously vanished about a week ago. Guess Dr. Knarks got through with them too." he sighed, fighting to hide the tears that were forming in his eyes, "I just hope he hasn't been able to break her yet... not when we're so close. But she's a fighter."

Firekreg was interrupted from his thoughts at the sound of Dragato and Falspar tearing their crossbow bolts out from the zombies' skulls. What had been going on inside this hellhole had gone on unchecked for too long.

"So, any last minute things we should know about this so-called "mad doctor" and his "pal", as you put it?" Falspar asked, as he reloaded his crossbow.

"The mad doc is a drow elf from the deepest regions of the Underdark. From what I understand, he's a pro at combining science and black sorcery. He's often accompanied by an obnoxious lycanthrope rat named Nasher. Trust me, if you find any rats... just kill the little bastards," Firekreg explained, "As for his friend, there's not much I really know, I've never heard his name. The Doc just calls him 'Your Grace' or somethin'. All I do know is that he's a tall, creepy guy in like, a nice business suit, first you see him then you don't, walks around in the dark wearing these sunglasses all the time. You know, it's a wonder he never ran into a wall."

"Sound like someone we know of, General?" Dragato asked.

Arthur responded with a curt nod, "Nightmare..."

"There's...something else... or rather someone else I should mention," Firekreg sighed, "A friend of mine is in there. Her name's Garna, Garna Riverdale, and I think she could help you."

"How? Who is she?" Sir Dragato inquired.

"Well, she told me about you guys in the G.S.A. Hmph, I at first thought it was all some sort of elaborate joke," Firekreg answered, "Then I did a little research. Garna hears things, pays close attention to details. When I took off... I... I wanted to take her with me, but... she told me to go contact and find you. If I'm missing for a few days, they'll think nothing of it, I cashed out my leave of absence... and bribed a few guards. But if Garna were to disappear, there'd be demon beasts crawling all over this bog and we'd never get the opportunity we have right now." he continued, "I told her four days, I'd be back in four days with a G.S.A. raiding party to put an end to this hellhole. Though if I know Garna, she's been keeping track, and I have a hunch there will be few less guards and demon beasts to contend with once we're inside. -sigh- At first, I thought her claims of torture and demon beast mutation were the ravings of a lunatic mind. I thought she got most of her injuries from the guards she fought and attempted to kill. Honestly... I've been a lousy friend to her... but tonight, I'm going to set things right!"

"Firekreg, how do you know this Garna actually considers you her friend?" Nonsurat asked curiously.

Firekreg shrugged and answered, "Simple. I was the only member of the staff she didn't attempt to kill."

Upon hearing that, the G.S.A. soldiers took one last glance at their current surroundings before facing the claustrophobic conditions of the narrow sewer tunnel before them. This... wasn't going to be pretty.

"This tunnel runs under the entire asylum, though I came out through the morgue myself. It'd probably be a good idea to start from the basement anyways and work your way up. With any luck, you'll put an end to Mister Tall, Dark, and Scary by the end of the night." Firekreg quipped, flashing another one of his sly grins, "Well, come on. It's really not THAT bad in here, besides, you all stink to high heaven anyways after traipsing around in the bog for two hours!"

While General Arthur, Nonsurat, and Dragato groaned with annoyance, Falspar just snorted out a laugh, "He's got a point, you know."

"One Falspar was enough trouble, now I've got twins!" Sir Arthur muttered to himself, following after Firekreg.

If anything else, the G.S.A. General could count this as the second most disgusting thing he had ever had to do, considering there was always still room at the top for number one. Now, call it a hunch, Star Warrior's intuition, or just being plain old paranoid, but no one in that squadron could shake this feeling lurking over them, a feeling like they were being watched, and not just by mindless zombies or low ranking demon beasts... no... this felt worse.

Unseen upon the thick, stoney wall, a large, gray rat pressed himself down into the stone as far as he could, to avoid being detected. Nervously, the fiend fiddled with the spiked collar around his neck, watching as Firekreg led the G.S.A. soldiers through the back door.

"Shit... the boss is gonna need to know about this!" the rat muttered to himself as he scurried away, "I always wanted an excuse to kill that fucking fox, and now, I'll have it!"

*Somewhere in the Asylum, Laboratory/Chamber of Horrors*

Pained screams echoed throughout the asylum's halls, originating from the main laboratory on the second floor. Screams? No, no, that would be wrong, more like death threats and snarls. But not from where one might have expected them from. They came from a young, black-haired girl, a member of the same race as Firekreg, who was currently being wrestled back into chains by a cruel, yet somehow handsome drow elf. Judging by the important looking lab coat he was wearing and the way he bossed everyone else around, this must have been the doctor in charge.

"Apparently... the Fusion Rage Serum works." the drow grunted to himself, pain straining his own voice as he pulled the broken syringe that was imbedded in his hand out, whilst shoving his wild and aggressive prisoner back into the guards that had gathered near the doors, "The more pain she feels, the more aggressive she'll become. Watch yourselves... idiots!"

Despite a gaunt appearance and the fresh wounds on her arms and face, along with a rather nasty gash across her midsection, that young halfling girl was putting up one hell of a fight. This wasn't the first time either, as while she struggled, more scars and injuries were revealed beneath the torn and filthy rags she wore. Fierce, emerald green eyes glared up towards the drow elf scientist, before the most sinister and evil of grins crossed her face.

"I'm going... to enjoy putting it between your eyes next!" she hissed.

"Take her back to her cage... and make sure she STAYS there!" the drow ordered, emphasizing that last part for good measure, before turning away to oversee the damaged mess that his laboratory had become after dealing with this most unruly patient.

"Yes Dr. Knarks." grunted one of the guards.

It took no less then three guards, two human, one demon beast, to drag the struggling girl out. Her hatred-filled snarls could still be heard throughout the halls. Dr. Knarks took in a deep sigh, waving his good hand in a somatic gesture over his wounded hand, curing himself of his injury. He was always one that was up for a good challenge, and that young girl was certainly a tough nut to crack. For three years, he had been poking, prodding, and testing various tortures, serums, and viruses concocted in conjunction with Nightmare Enterprises on her, yet while others fell prey within hours, she refused to give in. Her resilience and tolerance was unlike anything he had seen before.

"Perhaps I'm going about this the wrong way with Patient 13, Garna Riverdale," Dr. Knarks mused to himself, logging some of his new found data into the computer on the desk, "If I can isolate and harness where her resilience comes from, it could potentially be used to create stronger, more powerful demon beasts for the war."

He paused for a minute, thinking hard. Being the meticulous sort, Dr. Knarks knew when something was missing, especially if it was an inmate attempting to mount an escape or a member of the staff slacking off. Firekreg had had his days off and he had yet to report for duty, that wasn't like him.

The mad doctor was interrupted from his thoughts by the frantic shouting of his name: great, what was it now?! With a growl, he whipped around the face the door, his hard, cruel red gaze striking the fear of the Dark Gods themselves into the lowly demon beast that came to a stop in front of the open lab door.

The beast in question, a hell hound, let out a soft whimper, knowing full well that Dr. Knarks had done away with the last messenger that came with bad news, horribly.

"This better be good..."

"Doctor... y-you... ummm... look outside, the courtyard!" the hell hound whimpered, backing away to let Dr. Knarks past, "W-we have intruders o-on premiss."

The two of them walked down the poorly lit halls, completely disregarding the guards as they dragged inmates in and out of their cells for "treatments". There was something else nipping at his attention. Dr. Knarks realized, that he and the messenger were not the only ones whose curiosity had been aroused.

"Your Grace." Dr. Knarks hissed, bowing his head ever so slightly as a tall, dark figure materialized beside him.

"I trust you're putting my money too good use, Doctor." Nightmare inquired, cutting right to the chase.

His cold, dark, slithering voice only added to the veil of fear that surrounded him.

"The most recent shipment of enhanced demon beasts are already on their way to the front lines. I have also finalized the drafts for new creations. They're ready for cloning and transmutation as soon as you're ready." Dr. Knarks stated, stopping in front of a barred window, overlooking the courtyard from the second floor.

"Excellent, doctor. I chose well to put my faith in you."

"By the way, Your Grace, what happened to your little "Side Project" you had been working on?" the mad doctor asked, nonchalantly.

"Oh that, it was a failure... so I put it where it belongs." Nightmare growled, darkly, "I seem to be having those an awful lot, lately." he added to himself in a low, annoyed mutter.

Dr. Knarks glanced to his dark, suit-clad financier, then back to the courtyard, particularly the gates.

"I thought you ought to know, doctor, Your Grace." The hell hound whimpered, meekly.

Indeed, the zombies that roamed the grounds outside were gathered around the front gates. There was only one reason for them to do so: intruders! Some rebels that had discovered this place by accident had attempted to break in before, granted, they were now part of the hoard of flesh eating undead lurking about outside now, but there was just something weighing deep within the mad doctor's mind that was telling him things were about to go wrong, very fast. Oh, how sometimes he hated being right!

What Dr. Knarks had initially put off as the usual screams and hollers of lunatics became something far, far worse. On the way back to his office, the drow doctor and Nightmare stopped at the top of the stairway leading down into the small reception area, noticing something on the floor that did not belong there. First, there were the trails of blood leading down the stairs, then there was the pool of blood at the bottom, where three very familiar bodies and a set of restraint chains had been dumped. Upon closer inspection, these were the same guards that had been charged with taking Patient 13 back to her cell. Two of them were stone cold dead, while the last one was barely clinging to life.

"What the-?" Nightmare hissed, adjusting his dark glasses just enough so that he could evaluate the damage with his own, blood-red gaze.

"D-doctor... -cough-... sir... Garna... s-s-s-she... she had a... -cough, cough- knife... on her... s-she struck... so fast... took u-us by surprise." the guard rasped struggling to drag himself out of the pool of blood and bodies, "I-I'm hurt r-r-real bad, doctor -cough, cough- I... I think I'm dying."

Dr. Knarks just narrowed his hard, red glare, growling in the back of his throat, "Then continue dying." he groaned, with an annoyed tone before wrapping his hand around the human's neck and snapping it, "Devilishly hard to find good help these days, you know."

The dark elf''s cold solution to the problem was met with an agreeing nod from Nightmare. This meant that Garna was running about the asylum, probably causing havoc like she had the last time she attempted escape!

The hell hound messenger that had been trailing along with his masters shrank back, tucking his short stub of a tail between his legs and flattening his ears against his head. But, before orders could be given, both Dr. Knarks and Nightmare were interrupted by an obnoxious voice shouting throughout the corridors.

"STAR WARRIORS! STAR WARRIORS HERE! FUCK ME WITH A RAKE! FUCKING STAR WARRIORS!"

"Nasher!" Dr. Knarks called out, kneeling down for the rat that scampered across the ground.

The rat was almost out of breath, as he panted heavily once perched on his master's shoulders.

"Star Warriors? Here? How the hell did they find us?!" Nightmare growled, his form wavering slightly in his anger, "This place is under the protection of dark magic and there's never been an escape!"

Nasher glared up at the dark lord, then turned back to Dr. Knarks, "It was HIM! Firekreg, that traitorous fox! That fucking fox led them here!"

Dr. Knarks felt his blood run cold when he heard those words: that would explain a lot! At least now he knew where Firekreg had been, or at least, what he had been up too.

"I knew that creature was too good to be true! DAMN IT!"

"I told you boss, I told you, never trust those fucking foxes, or any dogs for that matter!" Nasher snipped, "They cannot be trusted! Ooooohhhhh, how I want to rend him limb from limb right now!"

With that exclamation, the rat leaped off of Dr. Knarks' shoulder, greatly enlarging in size as he did, taking the form of a monstrous wererat. Among the endless screeching of Nasher's ranting and cursing, the sound of steel clashing and battle cries could be heard from further inside the asylum.

"Go on, Nasher... take no prisoners this time. Kill them all!" Dr. Knarks ordered, as a dark aura began to form around his hands.

"Yeah-haha! I'm gonna bag me some Star Warriors and a traitorous little fox tonight!" Nasher exclaimed, scampering off to gather more of the guards and demon beasts, "Come on bitches! We've got a traitor to kill!"

"Dr. Knarks, if we are breached and this location compromised, then we cannot risk any of the information we have here falling into the hands of the G.S.A." Nightmare warned.

Dr. Knarks nodded in agreement, before barking an order to his hell hound, "Sound the alarm, alert the guards and demon beasts that there are G.S.A. soldiers in the asylum and a patient is loose. Kill them on sight!" he growled, as he and Nightmare made their way to his office with all haste.

It wasn't until shortly after he had given that order and his messenger was already en-route to spread the word and relay orders, did both Dr. Knarks and Nightmare realize that someone had evidently let a large portion of inmates and unfinished demon beasts out of their cells, which were now running amok and creating more chaos. With an annoyed snarl, Dr. Knarks let loose a pulse of raw, dark magic, killing two unlucky escaped inmates with precise hits to the chest.

"GET THOSE PRISONERS BACK INTO THEIR CAGES AND FIND THOSE STAR WARRIORS NOW! FIND PATIENT 13 AND KILL HER!" Nightmare snapped, shoving another one of the crazies that had attempted to tackle him into the stone wall with a powerful, telekinetic force.

"Fuck it all, I'm going to tempt fate... can this night possibly get any worse?" Dr. Knarks grumbled to himself.

Nightmare remained silent, though a smile did cross his face, if only for a brief moment. Naturally, the Dark Overlord always came equipped with a "Plan B", though it would involve screwing a few people over. Not that he was one to give a damn, anyways.

 _'Oh... oh... I would not tempt fate in such a way, my not-so-good-doctor. It always has a way of... showing itself.'_

*Somewhere in the Asylum, Second Floor*

Meanwhile, hidden in the shadows, the loose inmate, Garna, quietly twirled a ring of keys around her finger, letting out a soft cackle. With all the noise and commotion going on with the patients she had set loose, it left her free to carry on with her plan. Actually, there wasn't really much of a plan, Garna was just sort of making all of this up on the fly. So far, it had been working, but Garna knew that she would need more then just that stolen knife. If the guards hadn't found her little stash she had tucked away from her last failed escape attempt, there would be a chance that by the time this night was done, she'd be free of this hellhole. With the large pack of zombies outside, going out the front door was out of the question, and it always paid to be prepared for what horrors lay in wait outside these cold, stone walls.

Her hands were covered in blood from the guards she had killed, and there were now a few more bodies littering the corridors thanks to her. From down below, Garna had already heard the panicked cries and alarms going off: Star Warriors, as she heard Nasher cry out. Sometimes, she would hear Dr. Knarks and his shady companion talk about them. Whoever or whatever they were, these Star Warriors were no friends of the Doctor: all the better for Garna. Firekreg had pulled through!

"Thank you, Firekreg. I knew... I could count on you." she whispered to herself, a smirk spreading across her face, "Four days... hehehe! Cute little foxy can be trusted it seems. I don't have to kill him after all."

So far, so good. Well, as far as the skulking about went. The constant ducking in and out of rooms, behind doors, and concealment in the shadows hadn't been doing her injuries a whole lot of good. It wasn't just the blood of guards and demon beasts covering Garna's hands and clothes, her own blood started seeping through the thin, ragged patient robes, most noticeably the ugly gash on her side. Not only would it slow her down, but some nosy demon beast might smell the blood and track her down. One hand holding onto her side and the other still clinging to her knife, Garna trudged on through the asylum's maze of hallways, making her way to a small, hardly occupied room towards the back of the keep.

The first thing one might notice was the smell: it was one of the most horrendous smelling places in the entire asylum, save for the sewers or even the kitchen, perhaps. This particular room was used to process the asylum's refuse (among other things). A turn of the key, and Garna was inside. There wasn't exactly much to this room, just an old, worn out wooden floor and large pile of trash shoved against the side of the wall and a small locked door. According to Firekreg, there was a garbage chute on the other side of that door. At first, it would sound like a great place to mount an escape, but apparently the last prisoner that tried using that tactic found himself neck deep in mucky bog water and hungry zombies. But, that was not why Garna was here.

Still grasping her side with one hand, Garna shifted a few piles of trash off of a particular set of loose floorboards. Sighing with relief, the halfling girl grabbed the small backpack out of the concealed hideaway along with a crowbar and set of throwing knives. Daring a glance over her shoulder, Garna looked through the backpack, taking out a small, crudely patched together, and lightweight set of leather body armor, change of clothes, lock picks and thieving tools, and a crude first aid kit. A sly smile flashed across the young halfling's face as she came across the most important piece of her stolen loot, an old, tattered, book that had several ill fitting, loose, scribbled on pieces of paper stuffed inside it.

"I'll get you out in the open, don't you worry. Me and Firekreg, we'll do it." she muttered, to no one in particular.

With a pained grunt, Garna tore off her tattered rags, using them to staunch the bleeding. She backed up against the other wall, keeping the crowbar within easy reach should there be any interruptions. Then came the hard part: Garna knew she would have to work fast, and she couldn't stay in here for too long, lest infection set in. She emptied the contents of her first aid kit beside her, a small bottle of rubbing alcohol, roll of gauze, and a needle and thread. Well, here goes nothing.

The little thief was barely able to stifle herself when she poured the rubbing alcohol over her side. A shock wave of pain lanced throughout her body, causing her to shake violently. Taking in a few deep breaths and spitting out a few curses, she sterilized the surgeon's needle next and started stitching up her own injury. Having been in close proximity to a doctor, even a medical sadist like Dr. Knarks, she had paid close attention on how to stitch up an injury. Gasping with pain and fighting the urge to throw up, Garna tore off the last of her patient robe and changed into the set of clothes and armor that she had been hiding for the last few months.

The noises of the battle raging in the asylum started to get closer and closer. It was time to move on. Her adrenaline was pumped, no turning back now, either she would escape tonight, or die trying. But, when Garna picked up her belongings and turned to leave, it was only then did she realize that she had not been alone in this room. The trash pile on the other side of the room shifted and a soft whimpering could be heard. Preparing for some sort of horrible demon beast, or worse, Nasher perhaps, to leap out of the rubbish, Garna took her crowbar in one hand, knife in the other, and shifted the refuse aside, ready to drive her new weapons into whatever beast lay in wait... or at least that's what she thought at first.

"What-what the...?" she muttered to herself, eyes wide.

Not a monster... at least, it didn't really look like one. But, apparently someone thought it was garbage. It was a small creature, by the looks of it, just a puppy. Garna had seen these things before, sometimes Dr. Knarks would work with them. Wolfwraths they were called, if memory serves. But, weren't they usually red? It looked like a wolf, bluish gray in color with six nubbs along it's back and white gem set into it's forehead. Gentle, blue eyes stared up at Garna, pleading for mercy. The poor beast's muzzle and clawed paws had been bound: someone had just left this poor creature here too die!

"You t-too, huh?" Garna asked, cringing with pain while bringing her knife closer to the frightened creature.

Most people would have just assumed the creature to be a demon beast and kill it there and now. Garna, however, was not most people. She used her knife, cutting the bindings on the little pup's legs and muzzle, setting him free. There wasn't much time to bond with her new friend, save for scraping a few chunks of trash off of him, as a few unwanted "guests" had stumbled upon the two of them. Two guards, accompanied by an angry hell hound. Garna leaped back in surprise, letting out an angry hiss and taking on a defensive stance. She was cornered, no where to run, save the door she came in through. That was when she was at her most dangerous!

"It's her!" exclaimed one of the guards, as he drew his sword.

His partner took out a hand held taser, a wicked grin spreading across his face. The hell hound in between them let out a low snarl, his gaze fixed on the weakened demon beast pup that accompanied their little escapee.

"The boss said to just kill her!" snorted the first of the two guards.

"No reason why we can't have a little fun, first." retorted 'Taser Man'.

At that remark, Garna's new friend let out a low growl of his own, the fur on his hackles and ruff poofing out in an attempt to make himself look bigger and more threatening. For such an adorable ball of fluff, the little wolfwrath pup had some pretty sharp teeth in his mouth.

"Hahaha... what's this? A stuffed animal? Go on boy, take them down!" ordered the first guard, setting his beast on Garna.

The back of the hell hound's throat glowed with red hot embers right before it loosened a jet of flames at Garna. In a split second, Garna dodged to the side, throwing her knife into the fiend's chest, resulting in a sharp, pained yelp. There was a flash of fire, and the beast was gone. But there wasn't much time to celebrate, the fire from the hell hound was quickly spreading through the refuse in the room, causing it to fill up with smoke, making breathing extremely difficult.

Knowing that there was still a job to be done, the two remaining guards rushed in. The man with the taser was the first to attack, attempting to jab his weapon into the halfling. He missed, stumbled around in the smoke for a bit, right up until a sharp strike to the back of his knee brought him to the ground with a cry of pain. Desperately, he looked around for his partner, but that guy was in no shape to help him out.

"Jared!"

His cries for help were silenced by two things: first one was the crowbar to the back of his skull, the second, was the snarling coming from the small wolfwrath pup as it released a jet of fire from it's own mouth, then leaped on top of the other guard and proceeded to use him as a chew toy. Garna could only take a few seconds of solace, as the billowing smoke that now engulfed the entire room made breathing near impossible. She coughed violently, dropping to her hands and knees. Disoriented, she struggled to find her way out.

Gasping for air, Garna reached out, her hand grabbing onto something furry. That wolfwrath! The small creature let out a muffled yip, then proceeded to guide Garna out of the smoke filled room and into the hall way. Now, the young girl couldn't have been certain, but she could have sworn that guard the wolfwrath mauled was under some sort of paralysis, as those burns and wounds, while painful, were not life threatening. Yet still, he was unmoving, just laying there on the floor as the smoke and fumes engulfed him.

Once Garna was safely out of the room, the wolfwrath dashed back inside, inhaling the smoke and flames as fast as it could. Now finally able to catch her breath, Garna could see that the creature was healing itself, feeding on the fire, yet he had made sure to get her out before she suffocated. When the little beast returned, he had something in his mouth, which he promptly dropped at Garna's feet: it was the taser.

"Y-you... you -cough- saved my life... t-thank you." Garna rasped, reaching out and stroking the pup's ears, "Before I was imprisoned here... I had a little stuffed... wolf I -groan- loved... he was my friend... his name was Roaren."

She wasn't sure if it was just voices in her head or the lingering effects of having chemical cocktails tested upon her or real, true words, but Garna had distinctly heard her young wolfwrath friend say 'Thank you' back.

She didn't have long to savor such a touching moment. Pain crept throughout every inch of her body and the smell of blood and burned flesh was enough to drive her into a frenzy. With a snarl, she snatched up the taser and slung the bloody crowbar over her shoulder. Her face twisted into an insane smile as she started down the corridor, whistling for her wolfwrath companion to follow. Garna held her knife in her teeth, using her free hand to comb her long, messy hair back. With a cackle, she licked the blood off of the blade, preparing it for the next target.

"So Knarksy... you... you wanted to see if you could... use pain... as a drive for ferocity? Well... you've succeeded... and now... we're going to use it kill you and all your fucking demons!" Garna cackled to herself, "Come on... Roaren, Firekreg's waiting."

With that, Garna started back down the corridor. The noises from the battle were getting closer and louder, and it was only a matter of time before she too was engulfed in the flurry, say, roughly ten seconds, seeing as a small cluster of demon beasts came racing down the hall in a mad panic.

*To Be Continued*

 **Author's Notes::** This is set sometime before the events of IYNMs. Kinda-sorta a prequel... maybe? I really wanted to A: Write Garna as a child, and B: try my hand at writing the other puffball warriors from Meta Knight's unit.

As you ought to know if you've poked around my artwork or have read up to a certain point in In your Nightmares, you know Garna's kinda screwed up in the head. This is partially why. She had always been a nutcase from the start and it only got worse once she was imprisoned in the asylum. Garna was never given the chance to have an actual childhood nor was she ever really given instruction on how to behave around others in civilized setting, which is why she can often come off as being exceptionally childish at times, even once she grew up. For a while, her heart hardened, she trusted very few, and still to this day is not afraid to kill. However, she has a soft spot for strays and rejects and is one to repay kindness that is shown to her. To this day, Garna and Roaren have been inseparable.

I had a lot of fun with Sir Arthur and the other knights as well. Now, since we didn't really get a chance to see them all that much and they were pretty much just glossed over in the anime, I'm taking artistic liberties with these guys. If you don't like it, don't read it, that simple.

Sir Arthur is, of course, the strong, courageous, and wise leader of the G.S.A. His men have nothing but the highest respect and love for him and he always carries with him a regal bearing. He's a no nonsense warrior that would put his life on the line for any one of his men. Honor and Nobility are two things Sir Arthur holds in high regard. Sir Arthur is also one of few who can best Sir Meta Knight with a blade. His Special Ability, granted to him as a Star Warrior, is the power to summon and control Celestial Lighting.

Sir Nonsurat is one of the G.S.A.'s top physicians. While he may try to hide a caring, gentle heart under a tough, thorny barrier, those that take the time to get to know him can see right through it. When in battle or in the operating room, Nonsurat can be described as bossy, but off the clock, he can actually be a fun guy to hang out with, especially if drinking games are involved. Sir Nonsurat takes particular offense to anyone who would misuse the merciful art of healing. Unlike his fellow star warriors, Sir Nonsurat wields a battle ax instead of a sword. His Special Ability is the power to summon and control Ice and Frost.

Sir Dragato can be described as one of the G.S.A.'s biggest brains. He's often found buried up to his ponytail in research when not on the battlefield and is quite the authority on Demon Beasts. The Magenta puffball knight is quite the scholar and studies many different demon beasts in order to find weaknesses and how to defeat them. Dragato is often described as a workaholic by the rest of his friends. Oddly enough, he loves animals and carries a firm belief that not all monsters in the galaxy are evil. After reading about a powerful and dangerous group of creatures called "Lycanthropes", Sir Dragato fashioned a silver blade for himself. His Special Ability is the power to summon and control Wind.

Sir Falspar is the life of the party and is always up for a good time. He's witty, cunning, almost always has a joke or a trick up his sleeve, and is perhaps the least chivalrous of Sir Arthur's Knights. Yet he still carries with him a very kind heart. Sir Falspar is more then just a Knight, he is also a Bard, utilizing the power of his voice to hold sway over friend and foe alike. He always recounts stories in such a way that it's near impossible to turn away. Sir Falspar also has a tricky ability to make a common, everyday sort of suggestion just too irresistible to pass up. Sadly, Sir Arthur and the rest of his friends have gotten used to this little trick and it no longer works on them. Sir Falspar's favorite attack and special ability is the Siren's Scream, which can amplify his manipulating powers even in the heat of heavy combat whilst damaging opponents at the same time.

Firekreg Foxshre. I've done a few drawings with him, but I hadn't really done anything else with him up until now. He's sly and sneaky, but to be fair can still have dimbulb moments. There is something just a little bit off about ol' Firekreg though. Regardless of his faults, he genuinely likes Garna as a person and wants to shut down Ravenwing Bog for good.

Aaaaaaand... as an added bonus... IT'S ROAREN AS A PUPPY!

 **Disclaimer::** Firekreg Foxshire, Garna Riverdale, Dr. Knarks, and Nasher belong to me.

Kirby, Meta Knight, Sir Arthur, Sir Nonsurat, Sir Dragato, Sir Falspar, and all related characters © Nintendo and HAL Laboratories.


	2. Let the Battle Begin

The Raid on Ravenwing Bog Part 2

By: TheSilverhyena

WARNING! Contains:: Strong Language, Violence, Graphic Description of Gore, More Betrayals, Epic Lycanthropes, and the Beginning of a Private Zombie Apocalypse.

*Ravenwing Bog Lunatic Asylum, Basement/Ground Floor*

Chaos. Absolute chaos! Straight from the get go, as soon as General Arthur and his troops left the sewers and made their attack, things turned to pure chaos in a hurry. Demon Beasts and guards in a mad panic, rushing forward in poorly coordinated ranks of attack, the occasional wandering zombie that couldn't seem to define friend from foe, and about fifteen loose inmates running around to distract both sides of the fight. They had since cleared out the morgue and the adjacent store rooms in the basement, now they were making their way to the ground floor.

"Slay any demon beast you come into contact with, gather any information you can find and destroy anything that could be used for the creation of these monsters!" General Arthur commanded, "and if at all possible, harm no innocent being."

"Yes sir!" Nonsurat and Dragato shouted in unison.

"If we must," Falspar sighed, shooting a charging hell hound in the head with a crossbow bolt, before using said crossbow as a club, whacking another demon beast upside the head.

The sneak attack had gone better then General Arthur had anticipated: they were all still alive and had gotten this far. Firekreg was correct, Nightmare Enterprises had not been expecting an inside job.

With his officers and troops behind him, Arthur led the way to the ground floor, where a bloody battle between escaped inmates, demon beasts, and their guards was already taking place. Just like Firekreg predicted. By a quick look around, this must have been the reception area: there was the welcoming desk by the locked and barred double doors (which had been completely trashed), the stairway leading up to the second level, and a corridor leading deeper into the keep's ground floor on the other side. Several bodies now littered the floor, the most notable pile being by the foot of the stairs.

"General! Looks like we've got more humans, a couple centipedes, and those fiery hounds, it'll take more time and study to determine the extent of their full strength." Sir Dragato informed.

"That or we just kill them quickly!" Sir Falspar suggested, firing another crossbow bolt into the fray, "Before finding out the hard way the extent of their capabilities..."

"Sir Nonsurat, Sir Dragato, take the first attack force and secure the ground floor!" Arthur ordered, "Sir Falspar, you're with me!"

The Star warriors split off, leading each of their own small attack forces into the battle. While Nonsurat and Dragato worked to secure the ground floor, Arthur and Falspar got to work closing off the flood gates from the second floor, starting with the demon beasts and frantic guards charging down the precarious, blood-washed stairway. Demon Beasts had been dropping like flies, but Arthur knew better then to claim victory here and now. There was still that mad scientist and Lord Nightmare to be found. They couldn't afford to give their enemies a chance to regroup.

But it wasn't until they were in the middle of this bloody brawl did the G.S.A. officers realize that something was missing: Firekreg! Just where did that little sneak wonder off too? Amongst the rage of the battle, he was no where too be seen.

"We should have known!" Nonsurat snarled, the air around him becoming very cold as icy crystals started to form around his hands and on the blade of his battle ax, "the coward just took off and ran!"

"There's not much we can do about it now!" Dragato interjected, dropping his crossbow and catching an incoming guard's attack with his own blade.

With an artful flourish, the much smaller Star Warrior broke off the attack and ducked out of the way. When the human returned for another go at Dragato, he was shoved backwards and sent sliding across the ground by a powerful gust of wind, sent fourth by the Star Warrior. Meanwhile, Nonsurat dispatched his own potentially problematic demon beasts and their handler. His ax blade glowed with harsh blue light, right before a crescent shaped blade of light emerged and cut through the row of monsters, leaving a trail of ice in it's wake. With a sharp yelp and flash of fire, two of the hell hounds were down, but there was still one left, along with his handler.

"Nonsurat, duck!" Dragato shouted, leaping into the air.

In a swift, graceful motion, Sir Dragato's cloak transformed into a pair of dark blue feathered wings, giving him an extra advantage against his earth bound adversary. The much smaller warrior slammed himself into the human guard, taking him completely by surprise while Nonsurat was left to deal with the hell hound.

"Watch it Dragato-oh bloody hell!" grunted the teal blue warrior, as a jet of flames from the hell hound's mouth nearly seared him in his own armor.

Singed, but not out of the fight by a long shot, Nonsurat met the fiend head on, taking his frostbitten ax to it's face. The hell hound yelped and snarled, trying to find any unarmored portion of this blue puffball it could bite.

"Bad dog!" Nonsurat shouted, finally slaying the fiery hellspawn.

In a flash of fire, there was nothing left of the hell hound but a pile of smoldering ashes. Taking advantage of a short breather, Nonsurat assessed the burn on his arm, then turned to assist his friend with the beast handler.

Needless to say, Dragato had his hands full with the human guard. The smaller puffball knight had a few good dents in his armor from where he had been repeatedly struck by the guard's night stick, and the pounding in his head wasn't exactly favorable. With a grunt, Dragato rolled out of the way, beating his wings as he did, with some difficulty, in an attempt to get airborne. The tip of his sword glowed with the same celestial light that Nonsurat had used before. With a tailwind forming behind him, Dragato let loose his own sword beam on the man, nearly cleaving him in half.

"Ahhh!" Dragato yelped out in pain, collapsing to the ground, his wing held at an odd angle.

One look, and both he and Nonsurat could see that it was broken, by the guard's night stick no less.

"Can you fix it, Non?" Dragato asked, wincing.

"You know I can mend it, but not here-" Nonsurat began, cutting himself off as their troops were sent flying backwards by a very large, very powerful beast.

There was a loud squeak, echoed by an inhuman hiss, and two cruel red eyes turned to fixate on the star warriors. This blood covered creature was about the same size as the humans and looked very much like the ferocious rat Firekreg had warned them about before they broke in.

"That's got to be-" Nonsurat began.

"-Nasher." Dragato finished, suddenly finding any of his scholarly curiosity about the wererat fading now that he was fifteen feet away from the beast.

Nasher let out another hiss as he rounded on the two Star Warriors. Regular foot soldiers, or "cannon fodder" as some may put it were good sport, but killing a Star Warrior, now that was status.

"Ah, the traitor's little bitches, here at last. I'm gonna kill you... then I'll make ya eat both your own livers... AAHHHHGGGHHHH... you stink of fox!"

"Really? We stink of fox?" Dragato muttered to himself, baffled, "That's all? What fox?"

"DRAGATO!"

*Arthur and Falspar*

Meanwhile, Arthur and Falspar had their own work cut out for them, literally, as the case may be. The two of them fought their way to the second floor, cleaving aside the hordes as they did, though not unscathed. Hell hounds' fiery breath and the accompanying smog made visibility and breathing difficult, not to mention there were the giant, acid-spitting centipedes crawling down the stairs in an attempt to bowl over the intrepid knights and their followers.

"Falspar, now would be a good time for you too -cough- work that magic of yours," General Arthur suggested, the golden blade in his hand crackling with fierce, blue sparks of electricity, "Something heroic."

Never one to refuse a cue, Falspar slung his crossbow onto his back, drawing his sword instead. Something heroic and inspirational for a battle they'd most likely die in? He could work with that.

"In the darkness of this nightmare, when all our fears have come out to play, from the heavens shines a pale light, we are the knights of the G.S.A.!" Falspar sang, his and Sir Arthur's attacks becoming more powerful with every verse, "Righteous lightning strikes the wicked, and fire burns all their sins to ash. The winds of fortune guide our fate and icy frost shall freeze demon souls. Strength and courage of the stars shall lead us, upon the steel in which we clash!"

How he was able to do it without missing a beat was anyone's guess, but whatever it was Falspar was doing, it was working. Not only did it strengthen his own attacks and Arthur's, at the same time, it momentarily confused the monsters they fought against.

"Thank you Sir Falspar." said General Arthur, before releasing a lightning laced sword beam into the two giant centipedes.

A rumble of thunder echoed throughout the keep and the separate halves of the demon beasts slid down the stairs before disintegrating into a cloud of dust and residual dark energy. At this point, some of the lower ranking guards and demon beasts no longer seemed interested in attacking, now they were on the run. Eventually, after cutting down the foolish bold who did lock blades with the general and bard, Arthur and Falspar made it to the second floor.

Down the left corridor was a trail of blood drops and pools, along with a few dead bodies that could be seen if one were too look closely amongst the flickering lights. A few of the loose inmates were down there as well: what they were doing, neither Falspar nor Arthur could see. However, it was the loud, beast-like roar and cursing coming from the right hand corridor that grabbed their attention. There was something else, a cruel, cackling laugh that knew nothing but malice, something that sent chills straight down both warriors' spines.

"Nightmare!" Arthur and Falspar exclaimed together, in unison, "I'd know that laugh anywhere!" Arthur added, his blade once again pulsing with electricity.

A few of their fellow foot troops split off to clear out the left hand corridor, while the rest ventured further into the creepy asylum to clear out anything dark and scary that might try to sneak up on them. With any luck, Arthur could put a stop to the Demon Father's war tonight by killing him here and now. There was also a drow scientist to contend with too.

They tore through the maze-like hallways, knowing full well that at any moment, Nightmare could show his ugly face. A group of hell hounds stationed in the latter half of the hallway snapped to attention at the sight of the two knights, the backs of their mouths glowing hot with embers.

"I got this, boss." Falspar said, holding his sword out in front of him as it began to glow with bright green light.

As his sword beam pulsed through the blade, a soft wail echoed in the corridor that started becoming louder and more intense the stronger and brighter the light became.

"Aha! Be afraid, be very afraid, for I shall leave only when I have your heads!"

When Falspar finally released his sword beam, it was echoed by a loud, terrifying scream, like the wail of a siren. The hell hounds not struck and slain by the crescent shaped blade of light had a look of sheer terror mixed with bewilderment on their faces, all fire and ferocity had vanished.

"Begone with you, fiends!" Falspar barked, his sword momentarily pulsing with eerie green light.

At his command, the remaining hounds fled, not even looking back, "That or get me a beer and a smoke!" Falspar called after them, "Ya stupid animals! Hahaha... that one never gets old..." he smirked to himself, triumphantly.

Arthur rolled his eyes at his companion's remark. There had been many in the G.S.A. who would laugh and crack jokes about the green puffball who would use song and words in the middle of a battle, right up until they saw for themselves just what he was capable of. Falspar had been able to turn the power of suggestion into a very dangerous weapon.

As they reached the end of the corridor, Arthur grabbed his star-shaped badge and put it into the hilt of his sword. Seamlessly, the star melded into the hilt, creating an aura of light around Arthur's already electrified blade.

"You sure about this, boss?" Falspar asked, concern in his voice.

"If we find ourselves pitted against Nightmare, we'll need all the help we can get." Arthur stated, "I'm not sure how long your enchanting words will sway the Father of Demons."

"Wont know till I try..." Falspar shrugged, glancing back over his shoulder to the rest of their troops bringing up the rear.

Now, he couldn't have been too sure, but shortly after Falspar had commanded those hell hounds to leave, there was a sharp yelp and plume of smoke silhouetted against the flickering light. He wasn't the only one that noticed, as Arthur turned to take a look too. Once again, he felt like they were being... watched.

The G.S.A. General quickly snapped from those thoughts, as the bestial roars that had led them down this way in the first place became louder, and originated behind the door at the end of the hall.

"Men... be ready for anything that could be in there!" Arthur warned, taking in a deep breath.

Meanwhile, watching from a safe distance, a small figure stepped over the piles of ash that were once hell hounds, the hell hounds she had just dispatched not moments ago. Garna Riverdale, beaten, battered, and bleeding, but still alive spied on the G.S.A. troops, keeping her back against the wall as she did. Her breathing was heavy and she had this wild, bloodthirsty look in her eyes. The bluish gray wolfwrath pup by her side glanced up, licking the blood from his muzzle.

A noise from the battle downstairs distracted the young halfling, causing her to leave Falspar and Arthur. She knew that voice... and from what she heard, it didn't sound good.

"Nasher!"

*Dr. Knarks/Nightmare Private Office*

While the battle down in the reception hall started to get bloody, Dr. Knarks and Nightmare had been busy tearing through all their computers and files, gathering and saving anything worth saving before obliterating the incriminating, not to mention sensitive, data so that their enemies could not use it. Finances of Nightmare Enterprises, progressions of transmutation, and even designs on how to create new and improved demon beasts.

Dr. Knarks' main office, originally being only one of the few nice places in the entire asylum, had been thrown into chaos and disarray, like everything else around the stone keep. Shredded papers and documents littered the floor, the computer on the desk was in pieces, all desk drawers open and their contents scattered about, liquor cabinet tipping over, not to mention the not-so-good doctor's portrait on the back wall hanging by a rather awkward angle.

"Is this it, doctor?" Nightmare asked, "You have everything? I have assurance that all the work we have done together will not see G.S.A. hands?"

"Yes, Your Grace, this is everything." Dr. Knarks assured, nodding, "While the Star Warriors are busy bumbling about out there, we have plenty of time to make our escape and start anew."

The drow became somewhat concerned as Nightmare didn't exactly share the same sense of urgency that he had, in fact, the Dark Overlord was sort of casual about the whole thing as he finished packing up the last of his files, sending them only gods-knows-where with a flick of his hand.

"Your Grace?" Dr. Knarks questioned, both concern and agitation in his voice. (hey, that was HIS research, after all, that Nightmare had helped himself too.)

"I'm afraid, my good doctor, that you're only half right," Nightmare hissed, a grin forming on his face, "You see, I've gotten everything that I needed, I just don't need this place anymore... nor do I need you!" he added, delighting in the fear and anger that radiated from Dr. Knarks, "But, there's still a use for you... you'd make a nice distraction while I make my getaway... just not looking like that!"

Realizing that Nightmare had chosen now of all times to throw him under the bus, Dr. Knarks wasted no time with retaliating against the demon lord. His hands clenched into fists, glowing with dark magic.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" he roared, hurling a sphere of putrid green flames towards Nightmare.

With a laugh, Nightmare's form shifted, momentarily becoming an insubstantial mist, allowing the fireball to pass harmlessly through him and instead blow out the wall behind him. He shifted back, still keeping that smile on his face. Nightmare tilted his head as Dr. Knarks hurled another green fireball at him, only this time he caught it, stripping everything but the bare essence of raw black magic.

"Let the galaxy see you for the monster that you truly are, doctor!" Nightmare hissed, sending his own created concoction of black magic back at Dr. Knarks.

As soon as it struck, the dark elf doubled over in pain. His insides felt like they were boiling and slowly, his fine, coal black skin began to peel away, leaving way for muddled, sharp, reptilian scales. He screamed in agony, unable to do anything to stop the transformation, as two dragon-like wings protruded from his back and a tail sprouted.

"Yes... you'll do nicely, my new pet!" Nightmare mused, opening up the office door with a flick of his hand, "By the way, in case you haven't guessed, I'm cutting off my funding for your experiments, but don't be too disappointed, it was fun while it lasted."

"...Bastard... I'll...-" Dr. Knarks stammered, seizing up with pain as his once pristine nails became grotesque claws.

"You'll what?" Nightmare questioned, "Like you said, good doctor, good help is so hard to find these days."

Dr. Knarks couldn't say anything more, only look up to his ex financier with unending hatred. While he was still prone, his screams now having become beast-like roars, Nightmare threw the now bestial Dr. Knarks outside with a blast of telekinetic force before slamming the door shut again. Just a little something to keep those Star Warriors occupied while he finished up.

"Your services are no longer required..."

*Back out in the hallway, second floor*

As soon as that door opened, Sir Arthur's blade crackled with a jolt of electricity. He and Falspar both stood side by side, with the rest of their foot soldiers bracing themselves behind them.

"Alright, demon beast, come on out and face us!" Sir Falspar challenged, upon seeing the reptilian monstrosity emerge, (well, 'thrown out' was a more appropriate word,) "Your darkness and evil cannot ruffle the feathers of the G.S.A. Knights, not even if you hit us with a brick!"

At that proclamation, the now mutated Dr. Knarks looked up from the floor, still on his hands and knees, tail slowly swaying as his wings unfolded. His deep, dark red eyes had a mixture of agony, hatred, and fear in them. The creature's face now looked more like that of a mangled dragon's rather then elf, complete with a set of curved horns growing out of his head. When he finally got to his feet, the draconian creature stood roughly seven feet tall. He wore the shredded remains of what was once a doctor's lab coat by the looks of it. Wild dark magic pulsated all around him. Now Arthur and Falspar could get a pretty good look at what they were up against. Something... terrifying.

"...Eh... boss...why do I have this sinking feeling that we're going to get our asses kicked?" Falspar muttered, taking in a slight gulp.

"Falspar..." Arthur grunted in warning.

Now wasn't exactly a good time for negative humor. Every fiber of the general's being was telling him to attack and kill this abomination... NOW!

"What the fuck is that thing?" Falspar questioned.

"Surrender, demon beast, and I shall make your death swift and merciful!" Sir Arthur commanded.

A low growl emitted from Dr. Knarks' throat; he looked like he was about ready to throw up. Come to think of it, something green was starting to dribble out his mouth as black smoke rose from his nostrils.

"I... DON'T... THINK... SO!" Dr. Knarks snarled, vomiting up a blast of toxic green flames from his mouth.

In the confines of the hall, there wasn't exactly anywhere to run from the blaze. Thinking quickly, Arthur countered with his electrified sword beam, using the beam of light to cut through the acidic flames and it's conjurer. No one returned from the opening series off attacks unscathed. Falspar was having a momentary coughing fit from the fumes and he had a burn running down his arm. Two of Arthur's soldiers had been badly wounded, taking a harder hit from the blast, and a third was just barely able to keep up the fight.

"Dear Gods, what... have you done... to me?" Dr. Knarks snarled, taking a step back, before throwing up more acidic green flames and smoke.

It was then did he notice that his right wing and shoulder were bleeding, with a single, clean cut from Arthur's sword beam. The draconian backed away with a hiss, slamming his tail into the office door in an attempt to force it open. As Arthur, Falspar, and their remaining soldiers charged down the hall, Dr. Knarks struggled harder and harder to get back inside his office, until he had no choice but to set revenge aside and deal with the immediate threat.

Dr. Knarks tried breathing his green fire again, but nothing more then smoke and a few sparks came out, next, he tried summoning his shadowy pulse that he had used earlier: again, the magic wouldn't respond.

"Damn it!" Dr. Knarks growled, narrowing his eyes at the fast approaching puffballs.

"Hey boss, I don't think this guy has a clue what he's doing or even what he is!" Falspar observed, his voice echoed by the slow whirring of the Siren's Scream waiting to escape from his notably short but deadly pointed blade, "Wouldn't Dragato have a field day with this thing!"

"I hate to be a disappointment to my men, but I for one aren't to certain about bringing Sir Dragato back a live specimen to study!" Arthur shouted in response.

Before Arthur could launch his next attack, Falspar recklessly charged ahead, his cape shifting into a set of turquoise, falcon-like wings, giving him greater speed and a bit of height in the narrow passage.

"FALSPAR! GET BACK HERE!" Sir Arthur ordered, even though he knew it would fall on deaf ears.

At point blank range, Falspar released his sword beam on Dr. Knarks. The draconian snarled in pain and covered his ears as the Siren's wail echoed throughout the entire asylum. He slammed his back against the door, nearly knocking it off it's hinges.

"Surrender!" Falspar commanded.

Hey, it had worked with the hell hounds, why not try it on this thing? But, despite the fact that for a moment, Dr. Knarks considered obeying the much smaller puffball's command, he resisted the suggestion, instead reaching out with his clawed hand and grabbing hold of Falspar. The knight let out a sharp gasp as he struggled to breathe. Dr. Knarks lifted him into the air, directly glaring him in the eye. In this moment, Falspar had never been more terrified in all his life. Those clawed hands were strong enough to bend and pierce through his armor, making it almost worthless. He couldn't speak, nor could he hardly even move.

"Your commands and suggestions don't fool ME, bard!" Dr. Knarks growled, tightening his grasp on Falspar's throat.

The smaller green warrior thought, if only for a moment, that he was going to die here and now this night. He didn't remember much of what happened in between the crackle of a lightning bolt, then waking up on the floor surrounded by the splinters of a broken door in a very unkempt office. His crossbow and quarrel of bolts had been dumped on the ground as well from the force of the scuffle. The draconian was on the floor as well, trying desperately to right himself as Arthur and his men advanced. He had since obtained more wounds, but upon closer observation, so had Arthur.

Dr. Knarks lashed out with his claws, nearly ripping Arthur's electrified blade out of his hands. With his tail, the draconian had swatted away the other soldiers, though he still retained the injuries they had left for him. It was only then did EVERYONE in the room take notice of the tall, dark shadowy figure in the far corner of the room. Falspar and Arthur both froze for a second, realizing just who it was.

With a sinister laugh, Nightmare's form vanished in a cloud of black smoke, leaving the lightning bolt Arthur had summoned to strike the already crumbling and unstable wall behind him.

"NNNNOOOOOOOOOOO!" Dr. Knarks howled, finally rising to his feet, "You fucking coward, _Undeva!_ "

He lashed about in a frenzy, his tail whipping across Arthur's armored face, knocking him back momentarily. By now, Falspar was finally getting back up to his feet, with some difficulty. As Dr. Knarks thrashed around, nearly throwing up more of those toxic flames on the now prone General Arthur, Sir Falspar spread his wings, flitting around behind the beast.

"Oi!" Falspar shouted, though his voice was a little hoarse, given that he was being choked just a few moments ago, "No one... throws up on the boss but me!"

With that, Falspar took his blade in both hands and drove it into Dr. Knarks' back, causing the draconian to rear back with a roar of anguish. In his mad thrashing, he threw Falspar to the ground, using him as a thrown weapon against Arthur, who had only just gotten back up to his feet. Next, he pulled out the sword, tossing it to the ground, desperately muttering the words to a healing spell, but finding very little relief. Dr. Knarks stumbled towards the busted stone wall of his office, panting heavily as he gazed out over the courtyard.

"Owww..." Falspar grunted, shaking himself off before helping his leader up.

He winced in pain when he tried to move his wing, realizing that it was fractured, or worse.

"Really... Falspar..." Arthur groaned, weakly, "You had to bring THAT up?"

"All I could think of at the spur of the minute." the bard admitted, shrugging slightly with another pained wince.

"Thanks, that makes it... even worse..."

Despite the amount of damage they had taken, both puffballs were getting up and back in the fight. Even though they were trying to kill him, Dr. Knarks had to admire them for their tenacity and determination. Dare he admit, that they were just as fascinating as Patient 13.

However, the admiration wore off quickly, as the mad draconian's mind rerouted itself to escape. While Arthur, Falspar, and their men regrouped, Dr. Knarks took a syringe out of his pocket and jabbed it into his arm, injecting himself with it's strange black cocktail. The draconian let out a sharp gasp as a swell of power flowed through him. A dark aura formed around his clawed hands that became stronger with every strained breath he took. His pain, it was like pouring fuel on a bonfire. So far he had only tested the Fusion Rage out on his patients, Dr. Knarks hadn't used it on himself before. Apparently, there were properties he had not calculated, such as the restoration of magical abilities.

"I'll be... seeing you gents in Hell!" Dr. Knarks hissed, _"Noirdikini Shyvon!"_

A horrible wave of raw dark magic washed over the entire room, momentarily crippling everyone in the room with lancing pain. With a beast-like roar, Dr. Knarks turned away, using sheer brute force to make the hole in the side off his office even larger so he could fit through it. Nightmare had given him wings, time to see if they worked. For a moment, it looked like he was going to start belching up those green flames again. Before disembarking, Dr. Knarks threw one last look over his shoulder towards the two Star Warriors that were closing in on him, fast.

"Falspar, NO!" Arthur barked, grabbing his fellow officer's shoulder before he could leap out after the demon beast, "With your wing like that, you wouldn't even be able to make it past the gates!" he warned, "Let this one go."

Falspar let out an annoyed groan, Nightmare had already gotten away and now this thing was too. Luckily though, with very little experience flying and a prior wing injury, Dr. Knarks wasn't exactly going anywhere fast. Perhaps with his wounds, he too would fall out of the sky and become a feast for the numerous hungry zombies still milling around. Thinking quickly, Falspar ducked out of Arthur's grip, picking up his crossbow and a bolt, hastily loading it as he took his position on the rather precarious ledge. The draconian was still in range, granted, it would be a long shot.

"See you in hell first," Falspar muttered, taking aim, "freak show."

Given the moonless night and hardly any light, it was a near impossible shot, the key word being 'near'. Even Arthur wasn't sure if Falspar's aim was on, until the shape of the draconian figure could be seen stumbling out of the air and landed in the courtyard, hard.

"You got him, Falspar! Good shot." Arthur congratulated, "Now lets see if our undead friends down there finish the job." he added.

Despite bleeding wounds and crashing into a small cluster of the ravenous fiends, the zombies left the creature alone, even as he stumbled around to regain his footing. From that distance, neither Arthur nor Falspar could be certain, but it appeared as though that demon beast was controlling the undead. There was a loud crash and another blast of green flames illuminated the courtyard, aimed at the main doors leading into the asylum. Suddenly Arthur and Falspar felt their hearts race. Obviously, since the beast could no longer hold the keep, he was just going to let the monsters have at it and take as many G.S.A. soldiers down with him.

"Nonsurat and Dragato!" Sir Arthur shouted in alarm, "Those fiends are going to swarm this entire place, we have to get downstairs and help them!"

"And find Firekreg and that Garna Riverdale he mentioned," Falspar added, scooping up the rest of his crossbow bolts and picking up his sword before stopping at the liquor cabinet he spotted, "oh... hello."

"Falspar, this is no time for looting!" Sir Arthur shouted, with great urgency, gathering up what was left of their soldiers and already making his way out the door, "That's an order!"

"Chill out, boss," Falspar growled, his tone far more serious then it normally was, "Who's looting? I'm picking up some weapons right here for my bag of tricks." he added, grabbing a few bottles of booze and stuffing them into a bag he had just snatched up, along with a few of the torn cloth fragments that were already on the ground.

Once Falspar rejoined with the general, he reached under his shoulder guard, pulling out his trusty lighter from a hidden compartment. He had a confident and mischievous smirk beneath his mask, the kind he had when he was about to do something totally wicked and get a few groans from Arthur as an added bonus.

"We've got to get down there now. Keep an eye out for that sneak Firekreg and that Dr. Knarks, we haven't seen him yet, he may still be here!" Arthur commanded, before leading the way back down towards the reception area.

"Actually, boss," Falspar mentioned, taking a closer look at the portrait hanging in the office, "I think we already have..."

He had stared directly into those eyes, those horrible, hate-filled red eyes. Somehow, the drow and that draconian monstrosity they battled were one and the same person, Falspar just knew it.

"Those eyes... I'll be seeing them in my nightmares tonight... if I live long enough to HAVE nightmares, that is." he added, sprinting after his commanding officer, still cringing a little from the pain in his wing before reforming it back into a bluish-green cape.

Again, Falspar and Arthur hadn't exactly been keeping a body count, but they could have sworn that there were now a few more bodies littering the corridor.

*Nonsurat and Dragato vs. Lycanthrope, Wererat*

So, while Arthur and Falspar unknowingly dealt with the notorious Mad Doctor, Nonsurat and Dragato both had their hands full with their own demon beast. The rest of their men had done a pretty good job keeping the minor monsters, guards, and escaped lunatics at bay, but with Dragato loosing his ability for flight advantage early on and Nonsurat taking some burn damage from a hell hound, their battle against the wererat Nasher hadn't been going too well.

The two Star Warriors had been cut off from their squadron and forced to retreat down one of the corridors, Nasher hot on their trail. Thankfully neither Dragato nor Nonsurat had been bitten by the fiend, but both warriors had endured some mauling. Nasher however, seemed to recover from his injuries at a rapid rate, save for when Dragato scored a good hit with his blade.

"I... I think you just made it mad!" Nonsurat grunted, as the pair ran.

"Your ax strikes, it's as though they did nothing to the fiend!" Dragato pointed out.

"How come your sword did?" Nonsurat asked, as they turned a corner and found themselves stumbling into one of the empty cells.

"It's made of silver," Dragato answered, pausing as he gasped for breath, "In my research, I came across something about lycanthropes, they don't like silver. So I made my sword out of silver in case I ever came across one. You thought it was dumb, remember?"

"Well, can your research get us out of this?"

Dragato and Nonsurat both took a quick look around the sparse cell. There wasn't much, in fact, nothing would be the word to describe it. Nothing but the hard stone floor, walls and the door they came through.

"I think we took a wrong turn." Nonsurat said.

"You'd be right, bitches!" snapped that harsh, obnoxious voice from behind them, "I'm gonna fuck you up!"

Dragato and Nonsurat turned around, finding themselves once again face to face with that ferocious wererat. The fiend glared down at the two puffballs with up most hatred, yet there was also a hint of glee in his eyes. Nasher licked his chops, crouching down and preparing to pounce. Nonsurat and Dragato both saw their opportunity. Taking a leaf out of the "What would Falspar do" manual, Dragato encouraged the demon beast.

"Hey, you!" he called, beckoning with his hand in a taunting motion.

"Eat shit!" Nasher snarled.

With a squeak, the wererat charged forward, swinging his clawed paw-like hands around wildly. Dragato and Nonsurat both dodged off to the side, the later of the two conjuring a thin sheet of ice beneath Nasher's feet to send the unfortunate creature skidding into the wall on the other side. Before he could get up to recover, a strong gust of gale force wind combined with Dragato's Sword Beam pinned the wererat down just long enough so that the two Star Warriors could close the barred, wooden door behind them, effectivly locking Nasher inside the cell.

As Nasher screeched, cursed, and scrabbled at the door in an attempt to break free, both Dragato and Nonsurat breathed a sigh of relief, smiling at each other beneath their masks.

"Dang, Falspar will be jealous that he didn't think of that one first." Dragato panted, "I can't believe that actually worked!"

"Sorry, but he's already done it before. The Red Star, remember?" Nonsurat corrected, "Come on, we better get back out there." he added, as the two of them sprinted down the corridor to rejoin the main battle out in the reception hall.

"Damn it..." Dragato muttered to himself

Unbeknownst to the two Star Warriors, they (and their prisoner) were not as secure as they had initially thought. Nasher was well on his way to working his way out of the cage they had trapped him in. The wererat had shrank back down in size, just looking like another ordinary rat squeezing his way through the bars on the cell door.

"Oh, you little bitches are going to pay for that!" Nasher snarled, "I'll tear your fucking limbs off one at a time and make you eat them! Dog fuckers!"

As Nasher scuttled back down the cell block, discretely following Nonsurat and Dragato, he himself was unaware that he was also being followed. From the shadows further down, Firekreg watched carefully. He stroked something that he kept on a cord around his neck, something that he didn't have before he came in.

"Oh Garna, Garna, Garna... where are you, girl?" Firekreg muttered to himself, anxiously.

Well, there wasn't too much more of a point staying in here, Garna hadn't been down here. Still, he had something new to worry about: Nasher wasn't going to leave those two Star Warriors alone. It would be up to Firekreg to lend a... paw. He hadn't exactly been too keen on actually partaking in the battle, but things had a funny way of not turning out the way you had wanted them too.

"I've been waiting a long time for this." Firekreg growled, his eyes turning from brown to gold as his teeth began to elongate, "You're mine you fucking rat!"

*Back out in the Main Hall (where most of the action is)*

Once Nasher was "taken care of", Dragato and Nonsurat rejoined with their men and continued to clear out the guards and demon beasts. Despite the fact that they had been outnumbered earlier, the G.S.A. had gained the upper hand and began spreading through more of the asylum and claiming more ground. It felt like victory was nearly in their grasp, three more hell hounds and two giant centipedes down for the eternal dirt nap.

"Alright men, take this-!" Dragato started, right before he was cut off.

"Sir, look out!" called out one of their soldiers, about a hair too late.

Both Nonsurat and Dragato were in shock, finding themselves up against the wererat they had just finished locking up! Well, Dragato more so then Nonsurat, considering that the magenta colored puffball was pinned to the floor, his arms held out prone with Nasher on top of him. Dragato let out a cry of pain, struggling to get to his feet, but to no avail. Nonsurat's fists clenched around the battle ax he held, forming a thick layer of frost and ice around his hands and the blade of his weapon. The air around him became much, much colder.

"LET HIM GO!" Nonsurat commanded.

"Or what?!" Nasher mocked, ignoring the icy threat of Nonsurat as he leered over the puffball in his clutches to deliver a bite.

Nonsurat leaped forward, swinging his ax right under Nasher's chin. While the damage from the ax itself may have healed quickly, the damage from the enchanted frost did not. It may not have been much, but it did allow Dragato a chance to get back to his feet. The magenta colored warrior looked around the battlefield in a panic, realizing he was missing something: his sword! When Nasher attacked, he must have dropped it.

"You asshole! This never sets right!" Nasher growled, picking up what was unmistakably Dragato's blade, flashing a fiendish grin, "Let's see if silver tans your filthy hides!" he shouted, getting ready for another strike.

Dragato and Nonsurat both braced themselves, preparing to use their wind and frost respectively. However, they didn't have too. Seemly out of nowhere, a large, canine-like creature intercepted Nasher's attack with a snarl. Nasher screeched in pain as the rival beast latched onto his hand like a vice grip, eventually forcing him to drop the sword.

Upon closer inspection, this new beast appeared to be a giant red fox, roughly the size of a full grown Wolfwrath. It positioned itself between Nasher and the Star Warriors in a protective stance. There was something oddly familiar about this creature: were those... piercings on it's face? Exactly like the ones that a certain halfling guide had.

"F-Firekreg?" Dragato questioned, stammering a little.

"Yup, it's me... the REAL me. Now you know... I'm a werefox." Firekreg answered, flicking his ears. "What? Did you guys think I abandoned you or something?"

Nonsurat was about to answer what had been on his mind, but for the moment, it was probably better that he didn't. Firekreg had saved their tin cans at a critical moment, so that may have warranted some forgiveness to the (now not-so-little) sneak.

"Alright Nasher, where's Garna?!" Firekreg demanded, baring his teeth.

"And why should I tell you... filthy, fucking fox!?" Nasher screamed, "TRAITOR!"

With an angry squeak, Nasher charged back into the fray, bowling himself into the werefox with a flurry of hatred. The two lycanthropes bit and scratched at each other in a furious rage, running over anyone and anything that got in the way, including other battles that were going on. Any wounds caused by one or the other were not regenerating. They were literally tearing each other to pieces.

Having been given a chance to recover, Dragato dashed forward, picking up his sword as he went, followed closely by Nonsurat. The two Star Warriors tag teamed with Firekreg, nailing Nasher from all sides and not giving him long windows of opportunity to regenerate from his injuries.

"Nonsurat, Firekreg, duck!" Dragato shouted in warning, as soft, celestial light began to pulse through his sword.

At that warning, Nonsurat pulled Firekreg off of Nasher, quite a feat for a being of his small stature. The wererat had been so focused on Firekreg, he failed to see the sword beam headed his way that nearly cleaved him in two. The wererat let out a pained squeak as he was sent reeling across the stone floor, landing in a pained heap against the double doors.

Nonsurat and Dragato both panted heavily. Firekreg chanced a few steps forward, a few of his minor injuries sustained earlier already starting to regenerate. He limped a little, one of his legs having been heavily chewed on by Nasher.

"AAGGGHHH!" Dragato yelled, his voice straining with pain.

An arrow stuck out of his back, piercing through his armor just above the wing joint. Nonsurat looked up in time to see two people up at the top of the stairs, one a guard and the other some sort of demon beast medic, both armed with crossbows. Perhaps they had been slacking off during the course of the battle or they were reinforcements that had somehow been summoned into the battle: the point was, they were there and they were a threat.

Nonsurat pulled back his ax, charging up another one of his icy blasts, though not before one of the enemy archer's crossbow bolts found it's way into Firekreg's backside. The werefox let out a sharp yelp and thrashed about, eventually grabbing the bolt in his teeth, tearing it out, and snapping it with a defiant snarl.

Nonsurat had a look about him: THE look. The look that told anyone around him that he was sick of this place. Although he usually kept a calm demeanor, even in the heat of battle, the Star Warrior medic took particular offense towards those that perverted the merciful arts of healing and turned it into torture.

"You... don't... deserve... this... place... of... healing!" Nonsurat shouted, emphasizing each word as he spoke it, before unleashing another blade of light and frost from his ax blade towards the archers.

While it wasn't the (ax?) beam that killed them, it made a certain someone's job a little easier. The enemy medic and guard stumbled backward from the force of the frosty blast. One, the demon, fell right back on a set of small but sharp electrified prongs that had been intended for his back anyways, while the guard suddenly found himself getting dragged to the floor with a small, furry beast clawing and tearing him to shreds.

"Firekreg... is... that another one of your friends?!" Nonsurat questioned, taking a step back as the guard's screams turned into nothing more then gurgles and sputters before ultimately, a fiery blast engulfed him.

"That fuzzy killing machine... no." Firekreg answered, shaking his head in response to the small, furry beast, "However..."

Back up at the top of the stairs, the demon beast with the taser in it's back let out an angry hiss as it jerked about due to the jolt. The fiend attempted to turn around and use it's crossbow like a club, only to get a hard smack from a crowbar right to the face. Garna Riverdale smirked evilly, letting out an insane cackle as she kicked the momentarily stunned demon down the stairs, letting a snap of the neck during the fall finish it off.

The girl's hair and body were an absolute mess, covered in blood and gore. She also appeared to be wounded, badly. Garna crouched down to the floor, eying Dragato, then Nonsurat suspiciously. Her wolfwrath pup, now through with his prey, joined her, looking over the battlefield.

"...But she is..." Firekreg finally finished.

"You're late, Firekreg!" Garna groaned, "Then again... I kinda started the party early." she cackled, her voice straining from the pain she was in, "Like... what I've done... with the place? Hehehahahaaaaaaaa!"

"That's... Garna, isn't it?" Dragato asked, though it was more like thinking an unpleasant thought out load.

Okay, of all the nuts and loonies in the asylum, this one definitely appeared to be the nuttiest of them all, and she was just a child! She limped her way down the stairs, Roaren in tow, pushing a few dead bodies out of her way. Her small form was shaking violently. Nonsurat couldn't be entirely certain, but she looked like she was hopped up on some sort of drug, how else could she have endured so much pain and keep up the fight, let alone stand!? Secondly... that was unmistakably a wolfwrath pup accompanying her. What was she doing with a demon beast?

The little pup showed no hostility towards the Star Warriors or any of the remaining G.S.A. soldiers. Roaren did, however, start growling and snarling once Nasher got back to his feet. Embers glowed in the back of the small wolfwrath pup's throat. Dragato, Nonsurat, and Firekreg all turned around to face this major threat once more.

"Alright you sons of bitches, who wants-!" Nasher began.

(Gee, this sure was a night of getting cut off mid threat/warning, wasn't it?) He was interrupted by a blast from outside, an eruption of green flames and smog that rattled the stone keep and blew the doors off their hinges. Nasher squirmed his way out of the rubble, though when he took a look over his shoulder, his eyes widened to the size of saucers. A dark, shadowy, reptilian figure stood outside, surrounded by the hordes of undead.

"Feast well tonight, leave none alive!" the creature commanded, before flitting off into the night sky with a strained moan.

Dragato and Nonsurat, equally wide-eyed, took a step back as the snarling horde of zombies shambled their way inside, and there were WAY more of them then just that small cluster they had seen at the front gates earlier that night.

"...Never mind... fuck this shit, I'm outta here!" Nasher yelped, his monstrous form shrinking down in size to the form of a normal dungeon rat.

The wererat fled, finding a small crack in the wall to squirm through, leaving Firekreg, Garna, Nonsurat, Dragato, and Roaren to face the entire zombie horde on their own. By the looks of things, these fierce undead hadn't been fed for a few days.

"Well shit!" Firekreg groaned, the fur on his hackles rising in a threatening display.

"Ummm..." Dragato muttered, as he tore the arrow out of his shoulder, "General Arthur, Falspar ?! We could really use some help down here... NOW!" he shouted, his panicked cries echoing through the asylum.

Nonsurat and Dragato steeled themselves for the next round of battle. Despite being battered and bloody already, there were still innocent lives to protect, however crazy they may have been. Firekreg stepped up to the front lines, ready to take the charge head on.

"Well, Non... if I'm gonna be ripped apart and eaten by zombies, I'm just glad it's with you." Dragato sighed.

"...Dragato, I don't really know what to say to that..." Nonsurat answered.

Garna just cackled, shaking her head. Well, this could be considered either her best or worst escape attempt in her three year history of being imprisoned in this hellhole. Still, time to put that freaky voodoo juice the mad doc injected her with to some good use. The insane little creature flicked some of the excess gore off her crowbar, anxiously awaiting the hungry undead.

"I hope you all fucking choke on me!" she cackled, joining in the Star Warrior's ranks, along with Roaren.

::TO BE CONTINUED::

 **Author's Notes::** Hey, back with the second part of Raid on Ravenwing Bog! In this chapter, we get a much stronger taste of everyone's powers and just what they are capable of. In particular, I had a lot of fun with Artty and his warriors, especially Sir Falspar. I just LOVE that guy!

And yes, Garna has an insanely high tolerance/resistance to pain, drugs, and even magic, despite the fact that she's only a child. While I'm pretty sure you all saw this one coming, Firekreg is indeed a lycanthrope himself, a werefox. Werefoxes and wererats share a deep hatred of each other and will usually attack on sight.

I'm also under the assumption that the members of the batamon/puffball race get wings at some point in their lives. Meta Knight has wings, Galacta Knight has wings... see where I'm going with this? So, it is my opinion that the other warriors have wings too!

Another thing, we now know why exactly Dr. Knarks has nothing but contempt and hatred for Nightmare. He used to be very charming and handsome until Nightmare ruined all of that! Anyways, this has been a fun little project to work on, and I may do a few more short stories in this particular time line in between working on IYNM. Hopefully though, this'll be good for tiding you all over until then. Just don't get bit!

 **Disclaimer::** Firekreg Foxshire, Garna Riverdale, Dr. Knarks, and Nasher belong to me.

Kirby, Meta Knight, Sir Arthur, Sir Nonsurat, Sir Dragato, Sir Falspar, and all related characters © Nintendo and HAL Laboratories.


	3. Small Victories

The Raid on Ravenwing Bog Part 3

By: TheSilverhyena

WARNING! Contains:: Strong Language, Violence, Graphic Description of Gore, Bad Humor, and Several Ways to Brutally and Creatively Slaughter Ravenous Zombies that want to Eat you.

*From where we last left off*

So there they were, few standing against many: many flesh-eating undead, that is. Seeing these things with a sturdy, wrought iron gate in between them and you was one thing, dealing with one or two at a time was another, but facing down an entire horde of these walking viruses with nothing in between them and you but one wily werefox and a violent escaped lunatic plus a wolfwrath puppy? That was in a league of it's own!

"Nonsurat, we have to slow them down!" Dragato called out.

"Thank you for pointing out the obvious!" Nonsurat grumbled, conjuring a sheet of ice on the stone floor by the busted door hinges.

While the ice actually froze a few of the fiends in place, thus creating an obstacle for the other zombies in the hoard to overcome, some of them actually tripped on the slick surface in their mindless pursuit of prey, cracking their skulls open on the hard frozen water. However, the makeshift barricade of broken undead bodies and ice was not going to be enough to keep the beasts at bay, as some of them that had lost their legs and feet started dragging themselves along the ground with their hands and others shambled in from behind.

With a snarl, Firekreg leaped forward, using the sharp claws on his paws to attack rather then his teeth. Say what you will about the ferocity of a lycanthrope's bite, but zombies sure did leave a bad taste in the mouth!

"Firekreg!" Dragato shouted, mid sword beam.

"I've already got the Lycanthropy virus inside me, I can't contract Zombism!" Firekreg called back, taking a swing at one of the shambling beasts with a snarl, "In theory..." he added to himself in a low, worried mutter.

If perhaps in theory only, Firekreg couldn't contract Zombism, that wouldn't stop him from becoming a snack for the hungry undead. The werefox and star warriors alike were quickly becoming overwhelmed as the zombies swarmed inside. With wounds still open and bleeding from the previous battle, the scent of fresh blood was driving the beasts wild.

Suddenly, a shrill, insane cackle paired with the banging of metal on stone had allured the attention of some of the fiends, as a few turned their heads in curiosity.

"Roaren, fry em'!" Garna commanded, striding forward with an evil grin, holding her taser aloft whilst continuing to bang her crowbar on the floor.

She didn't even flinch as the wolfwrath pup's fireball exploded rather close to her, setting several zombies on fire. With a swing of her crowbar, Garna cracked open the head of one of the crawlers before in could take a bite out of Nonsurat's foot, then knocked back another that had been trying to grapple with Firekreg. Before long, the entire group was covered in blood, guts, and slime from the horde, and it seemed that for every one they killed, two more took it's place.

"Where the hell are Sir Arthur and Sir Falspar?!" Nonsurat asked, in that 'thinking angrily out loud' sort of tone.

With a grunt, he took one zombie's head off with a clean swing of his ax, then sent a blast of frost towards another cluster, momentarily freezing some of them in place. The teal blue star warrior nearly felt his heart skip a beat as he was grabbed from behind by a rotting, corporeal hand and turned around. Sir Nonsurat found himself staring right into the putrid mouth of one of those vile undead, right before something else was forced down it's throat.

"Oh?!" Garna interjected with a smile towards the Star Warrior, all the while sending several electrical jolts through the zombie from the taser she shoved in it's mouth, "Those two were upstairs, methinks, taking care of something... ugly." she finished, ripping her taser out of the still twitching dead zombie's mouth and letting the limp form fall to the floor, "Huh... I always wondered if that would work..."

Nonsurat couldn't help but stare in shock as Garna giggled a little, looking at the bite marks on her leather gloves. She licked the blood spatter around her mouth, only to spit it out with disgust.

"Ick, the guards' blood tasted better." Garna spat, "Hmmmmm... I thought you was Star Warriors," she pointed out with a disturbing, playful glee, directing Nonsurat back into the fight, "watch your asses! Hehehehe!" the halfling girl cackled, twisting around to whack her next target in the shins to bring them down to her level before dispatching them permanently.

Nonsurat turned to where Garna had directed him, realizing that a very panicked Dragato was about to be put on the dinner menu. The puffball knight sent another ice-laced ax beam into the fray, breaking it up enough to give Dragato some room to maneuver.

"...Anytime... would have been wonderful!" Sir Dragato informed, somewhat out of breath.

"I was a little... indisposed!" Nonsurat answered, with a sharp gasp.

"Everyone! Stand close together!" Sir Dragato warned, clenching his fists and narrowing his eyes.

Taking the magenta Star Warrior's suggestion to heart, Garna grabbed a hold of a hunk of Firekreg's fur with her free hand, knocking an approaching zombie upside the head with the crowbar still in her other hand, while Roaren braced himself in between Nonsurat and Dragato.

"Evil demons that do not belong in this world," Sir Dragato began, "Let the Winds of Fate cast you back into the Abyss from whence you came!"

With a strained groan, Sir Dragato used what remained of his strength and summoned a powerful gale force wind, using it to push the horde back and give his team some much needed breathing room. The wind had also kicked up debris from the earlier fight, including large chunks of rubble and even dropped weapons, which Dragato sent spiraling for their attackers. Not to mention, on a few of the older zombies, the force of Dragato's gusts had actually started to peel the flesh right off their bones and even dismember a few of them in a rather grotesque fashion.

"...Oh... that's not right..." Firekreg yelped, digging in his claws in an effort not to be swept away as well.

"Tehe, I thought it was cool, Firekreg!" Garna cackled, her voice somewhat muffled by the howling winds that surrounded them.

The small group huddled together for the duration of Dragato's powerful Gale Force. A blast of fire from Roaren, amplified by the gust seemed to do the trick pretty well. The combo attack took out quite a few zombies. But it also left Dragato extremely fatigued. And of course, just when the exhausted group of Star Warriors and escaped lunatics thought they finally had a handle on the situation, even MORE of the fiends began to crawl out of the wood works.

"Where the fuck did these ones come from?!" Firekreg exclaimed, eyes wide in horror as several more zombies came stumbling out of various rooms and halls from the asylum, most notably from the stairway and corridor that led to the morgue.

By now, with these new fiends joining the party and a few stragglers coming in from the courtyard, the team was completely surrounded... again! Roaren let out a loud snarl, opening his mouth for another fire blast, but nothing more then a plume of smoke and a few embers came out.

The pup's snarls quickly turned into frightened yelps, but Roaren held his ground against the swarming fiends: he was going to protect his friend.

"Aheheheee... no... fucking... way!" Garna hissed, as she took out one of her knives and tapped her crowbar on the floor, attracting the attention of the zombies.

"Garna... GARNA, WAIT!" Firekreg screamed, still standing over a weakened Dragato in an effort to protect him.

His words fell on deaf ears, as Garna left Firekreg's side, her insanity and anger at it's boiling point. It was clear that Garna was in severe pain, yet it only seemed to fuel her rage further.

"Firekreg, watch after Sir Dragato!" Nonsurat instructed, before following after the deranged halfling.

The werefox shot the teal blue warrior a rather sour look as he barked that order, but he didn't have much time to argue as the horde began closing in for the kill. Needless to say, being ordered around was a matter that could be discussed later.

Garna meanwhile, had whipped herself into an absolute frenzy of shouting, cursing, blood, and gore, not necessarily in that order. All around her were several slaughtered zombies and more kept on being added to the pile. All the while she was screaming violently.

"YOU... UNDEAD... SONS... OF... BITCHES... WILL... NOT... KILL... THE... ONLY... LIVING... THINGS... I... CARE... ABOUT!"

Garna and Nonsurat looked as though they were going to be overpowered and dragged to the ground. Roaren had even jumped into the fray, using his sharp claws and fangs to fight, heedless of the danger he was putting himself in. Just when it seemed like they were all F.U.B.A.R and this was to be where they would die, a faint gleam of light shone from the top of the stairway looking down into the reception area where the battle was taking place.

No, it's not the holy divine light you're probably thinking of, the light was actually coming from the Molotov Cocktails that Sir Falspar was igniting then throwing into the zombie clusters.

"LAST CALL, ASSBUTTS!" Sir Falspar shouted, breaking off the top of another booze bottle, moving his mask aside just long enough to take a quick swig, then stuffing one of the torn cloth fragments down the bottle before lighting it, "COME AND GET IT!"

"Sir Falspar, General Arthur!" Nonsurat called out, holding up his battle ax triumphantly.

Normally, this was where Sir Arthur would roll his eyes and let out a groan at Falspar's antics, but there wasn't exactly time for that. Sir Falspar continued his assault, shouting, cursing, and tapping his sword on the stairs in an effort to attract the fiends towards him and away from the other members of the group.

A pulse of blue electricity surged through General Arthur's blade as he surveyed the situation: Sir Dragato appeared to be badly wounded, Sir Nonsurat had froze some of the undead surrounding him in place, while the insane halfling girl at his side that could have only been Garna gutted them with her crowbar and knife. The wolfwrath and gigantic fox took General Arthur by surprise, but he figured that since they were attacking zombies and not his men, they must have been allies.

"Your turn, boss. Don't tell me that I've wasted those bottles of twelve year old Scotch for nothing!" Falspar informed, once the zombies staggering up the stairs had become uncomfortably close, "Now would be a good time!"

The loud rumble of thunder echoed throughout the asylum walls as sparks flew from Sir Arthur's blade and armor. His cape shifted into a set of white eagle wings and lifted him into the air.

"By the Blessings of the Stars above, I hereby Banish you Abominations!" Sir Arthur shouted, "Behold the Storm of Holy Vengeance!"

The general beat his wings higher into the air, then he dove downward in a life risking tackle and rushed headlong into the horde. Lightning sparked and crackled all around him, discharging into the undead. Any zombie that either touched him or he touched in this state, was reduced to a pile of ash. While Sir Arthur's storm raged, Falspar dashed down the now cleared staircase, still chucking his makeshift fire bombs into the fray.

Sir Arthur's attack finally ended, with a spectacular flourish as he landed, using his electrified wings like blades and reducing the cluster of zombies he landed in to dust. This left him tired, but not out of the battle yet. The old knight still had a few sword beams left in him, which he wasted no time in using on the fiends that had escaped his righteous fury.

Meanwhile, Roaren took advantage of the firestorm Sir Falspar had created, tackling one of the flaming zombies to the ground and inhaling the flames right off the fiend's smoldering body before returning it ten fold in the form of a fire blast. General Arthur turned around just in time to see the little pup take out the fiends that had almost nailed him from behind.

"Don't worry, that one is with us!" Firekreg informed, before snapping at another incoming zombie, quickly realizing that to be a mistake.

Recognizing the voice, Sir Arthur couldn't help but comment, "I knew there was something off about you, Firekreg!"

"Gee! Whatever gave you THAT idea?!"

By now, the fight was winding down. There was no safe place to step, seeing as the entire ground was covered in blood, guts, gore, and broken undead bodies. Sir Falspar finished up the last cluster of fiends with his sword beam. Any not decapitated by the attack simply turned around and left by his command.

"Huh... I'll need to remember that, it does work on zombies." Sir Falspar muttered to himself with a smirk, lifting up his mask just enough to spit out that horrible taste that found it's way into his mouth.

Firekreg took a swipe with his paw at one of the few remaining stragglers, only to find that he didn't have too. Still underneath his protective, furry shield, Sir Dragato mustered up enough energy to make one last kill before the battle was over. Granted, that silver sword was way to close for comfort as far as Firekreg was concerned.

"A little warning would have been nice!" Firekreg groaned, lifting his paw away from the silver blade, "Silver burns lycanthropes... fuck!"

"It's dead, isn't it?" Sir Dragato huffed, in annoyance.

The magenta colored Star Warrior crawled out from under Firekreg, doing his best to stand on his own, but if Sir Arthur hadn't been there to catch him, Dragato would have ended up face first on the floor.

"His attitude is still in full gear. With a little rest and patching up, he should be fine." Firekreg informed.

"Thank you for coming back, Firekreg," Sir Arthur said, with a nod, "And thank you for standing beside my men."

"Why does everyone seem to think-?" Firekreg stopped himself, "-sigh- You're welcome, General."

Everyone's attention quickly turned to Sir Nonsurat's frantic shouting as his ax blade cleaved through the last standing zombie and then began digging through a pile of bodies. Come to think of it, there was one combatant unaccounted for.

"Oh gods, Garna!" Firekreg shouted, panic heavy in his voice as he approached the dead body pile up to help dig through it.

"She was overrun, there were too many of them." Sir Nonsurat explained, panting heavily.

"Oh no..." Sir Arthur sighed, fearing the worst.

With Sir Falspar's and Roaren's added help, Garna eventually emerged from the pile of rotting gore, almost looking like a zombie herself she was such a mess. The halfling had several bite marks on her torn up, patched together leather armor. She took in a few gasps of air as she stood up, her eyes locking with Sir Arthur's.

"That... was fun." Garna stated, before turning to Firekreg, "We should do this... more... often."

With those words, she collapsed, grasping onto Firekreg to break her fall. The werefox's form shifted and Firekreg turned back into his halfling self. Garna was now shivering violently, and being covered in all that zombie blood wasn't exactly doing her prior wounds any good. She was very weak from the fight, yet she refused to set her weapons down. Now that the zombies were dead, Garna felt there was a new threat to deal with.

"Garna... Garna... it's okay now, you don't have to fight anymore." Firekreg whispered, in an effort to calm her down, "These guys... they're G.S.A."

"Y-yes... I-I-I do... Firekreg... t-the fight is... n-never over." Garna stammered.

The girl flinched as Nonsurat touched her, nearly taking her crowbar to his head. In mid stroke, she dropped her weapon, partially due to Firekreg grabbing her arm and partially because her sickness from years of abuse had finally caught up to her all at once.

With a soft whine, Roaren approached his friend and curled up at her side, giving the surrounding Star Warriors a pleading look.

"Oh my... ghaaa! How is she even still alive?" Sir Nonsurat asked, wiping away some of the gore from her body to feel her temperature.

Needless to say, it wasn't good. And all that fighting had aggravated her sickness once the adrenaline rush wore off.

"Sir Nonsurat," Sir Arthur began, "We had best get back to the Pike Breaker. These patients need tending too."

"But what of-?" Nonsurat began.

"Don't sweat it, Nonny, the boss and I can take things from here." Sir Falspar snorted.

"I was talking about the wolfwrath, Falspar..." Nonsurat grunted, "Sir Arthur... what of this beast? I know you gave orders for us to kill any demon beast we came into contact with, but this one... helped save our lives."

Sir Arthur took a moment to think, "Take him with you. Truth be told, I don't even think that is a Demon Beast."

So it was decided: Sir Nonsurat and Firekreg would return to Sir Arthur's ship, the Pike Breaker, with Garna, Dragato, and any of the other wounded, while Sir Arthur and Sir Falspar stayed behind to salvage any information they could and make the place unusable should Nightmare's forces return.

"I have some medical training, Sir Nonsurat. I can assist with any medical procedures." Firekreg pointed out.

"Well, I'd be a fool to turn down any help I can get." Nonsurat admitted, slinging his battle ax onto his back.

Firekreg shifted back into his werefox form, slinging Garna across his shoulders and letting Sir Dragato hitch a ride as well. Roaren trotted right up to Firekreg, ears perked and eyes hopeful as he gently scratched against the werefox's leg.

"Yes, you can come too!" Firekreg said.

"What a fascinating creature. I-I've... always wanted... to study a wolfwrath up close... without fear of being... burned or bit." Sir Dragato mentioned.

"You're studies are on hold until I've gotten through with you!" Sir Nonsurat stated, firmly, "Let's get out of this hell hole!" he added, climbing up onto Firekreg's back.

Sir Arthur let out a deep sigh as he watched the small group ride off into the night. He was still angry at himself for letting Nightmare and that Draconian get away. But, even if the mission wasn't a complete success, it wasn't a failure either. Nightmare was now down a base of operations. With any luck, the enemy forces would at least ease up enough to let his soldiers gain an upper hand in the war.

"Well Sir Falspar, let's get this over with." Sir Arthur sighed, flicking his armored boot and shoving a half burnt corpse out of his way.

"This probably isn't the best time to mention it, but I was able to save at least one bottle of the good stuff," Sir Falspar mentioned, "I thought that after this harrowing ordeal, you might like a shot or three." he added, with a shrug.

"Today is a momentous day, Sir Falspar," Sir Arthur sighed, resting a hand on his officer's shoulder, "Because I find myself agreeing with you on matters concerning a stiff drink for once."

*Some time later, Hidden and Secluded location aboard the Pike Breaker, Medical Bay*

Despite having injuries of their own, Firekreg and Sir Nonsurat sure had their work cut out of them. Things had gone from bad to worse when Garna had woken up in the middle of her surgery and nearly had a complete mental breakdown from finding herself in an operating room. That was a memory Nonsurat would have a hard time getting out of his head. It had taken five times the normal amount of sedatives just to put her under again. Pair that with evidence of rushed self-surgery, scars old and new, severe malnutrition, sleep deprivation, abuse, high fever, and cleansing her body of various drug cocktails, Nonsurat was left in utter shock and horror.

But, emergency surgeries behind, as of right now, all was well. Sir Nonsurat and Firekreg oversaw the medical bay's recovery room, which now had several beds occupied from the wounded survivors of the raid. It was a sterile and plain room, mostly white with a few reflective surfaces. Against either side of the wall were rows of eight beds each, set aside for those recovering from battle. There were no windows and only one door out. The only other door in the recovery room lead to the operating room and the laboratory.

Sir Dragato and Garna were patched up, cleaned from the filth and gore of the asylum fight, and now resting comfortably. Both of them had tubes and wires sticking out of their arms, connected to monitors and IV drips. Though special precautions had been taken with Garna, as Nonsurat had secured her to her bed with thick padded leather straps. Normally, those were only used on captured enemy soldiers or patients under the influence of mind altering drugs or spells. Garna however, had proven herself to be an exceptionally dangerous case, despite the fact that she was just a child. Both Dragato's and Garna's armor and belongings had been placed on their bedside tables, however their weapons had been stored elsewhere for the time being.

"I'm tellin' ya, when she wakes up, that isn't going to hold her." Firekreg mentioned, "Garna's a slippery one. You never saw the lengths Dr. Knarks went toi n order to keep her in one place! This wasn't her first escape attempt."

"It's the best I can do right now." Nonsurat sighed, taking a moment to sit down and take a breather, "Considering Garna saved my life back there... I... don't really like doing that to her, she's just a child."

The Star Warrior healer felt guilty about detaining Garna like she was just another prisoner. The poor girl had been through enough already. He hadn't originally planned on giving her the captive treatment... well, up until he reminded himself that she did try to take that crowbar of hers to his head.

"Well... she DID try to attack me."

"She was under the influence of some sort of drug that caused severe aggression, you said so yourself, doc!" Firekreg snorted, in Garna's defense, "Poor thing was delirious and confused."

"Regardless, fox. As of right now she is a danger to herself and to others." Sir Nonsurat affirmed, "While I may not like it, it's for our safety and hers. Besides, did you see the way Garna acted in battle? She got way too much enjoyment out of killing those demon beasts. That is not normal for any child."

"Well yeah. Nothing about Garna is normal, that's what I like about her. And let's not forget that she and her little friend there saved your tin can from said demon beasts," Firekreg snorted, with a sly smile of his own, "Changing the subject now, thanks for letting her fur coated razor blade stay with her." he added, stroking the wolfwrath pup curled up beside Garna.

Roaren let out a soft whine, opening up one bright blue eye just long enough to look at Firekreg, then immediately fell back asleep with a huff.

Nonsurat's expression softened at the sight of the pup. Perhaps the general was right. He wasn't getting the usual feelings of dread and evil all demon beasts admitted. No wonder Sir Dragato was so fascinated by this case.

"Hmhm. You couldn't separate those two with a crowbar. That little beastie waited for her outside the operating room and as soon as Garna was put into recovery, he was right there and hasn't budged since." Nonsurat mentioned, standing back up, "So far he hasn't bit or used his fire breath on anyone here. As long as he behaves himself, I see no problem with the little furball. Especially if he keeps my patients calm. That and he's part of the reason why we aren't in the digestive track of ravenous undead." he added, memories of the battle flooding back to him.

"Hmmm, I'm just trying to figure out where she found him..." Firekreg mused, "Cleaning him up wasn't easy. Poor critter smelled like a garbage heap, looked like he had been in one, and isn't exactly fond of water."

They were still waiting for Sir Arthur and Sir Falspar to return, but in the meantime, Nonsurat checked on each of the patients in turn, eventually getting to Dragato, who had just begun to stir. The magenta warrior was quite groggy and had very little recollection of how he got there.

"Ummm... okay, I'm a... little disappointed," Sir Dragato groaned, "I thought heaven would be prettier then this."

At Dragato's first words since he was admitted into surgery, Nonsurat and Firekreg both snickered.

"Dragato, you're aboard the Pike Breaker, in the Medical Bay Recovery Room." Sir Nonsurat informed, "Remember now? You were mauled during battle and exhausted yourself with your Gale Force."

Sir Dragato just let out a loud, dreadful groan, covering his eyes with his hands, "No, no, no, this means I'm in the other place!"

"Doc Nonsurat... you're on your own!" Firekreg proclaimed, holding up his hands, signaling that he was not going to get involved in a "friendly" disagreement between friends.

That was probably a good idea too, considering among the first things out of Dragato's mouth was his insistence to have his journals brought to him at once so he could write down the new information about the various demon beasts they had faced while it was fresh in his mind. Zombies, Lycanthropes, Hell Hounds, and especially that mysterious wolfwrath pup Roaren, even in his weakened state, Dragato was insistent about getting to work on his research right away.

"Dragato, you're being worse then Falspar at this moment and lucky for me, you do NOT have his power of suggestion." Sir Nonsurat sighed, "Now then, you've just woken up from surgery. You had an arrow pierce your shoulder, a broken wing, a concussion, and more cuts and bruises then I would care to count for you right now. Please, just rest, for both our sakes. What would General Arthur have to say about this?"

Once the good general's name was brought up, Sir Dragato stopped fighting and just made himself comfortable. It was all he really could do at this point. Maybe if he behaved, someone would go and grab his journals and enable his workaholic ethic.

"What about Garna?" Dragato asked, shifting so that he could see her, "Is she going to be okay?"

Nonsurat didn't answer right away. With this case, there was no straightforward answer, "Only time will be able to tell with her. She's proven to be very resistant to any tranquilizers, sedatives, and pain medications I have given her. I know she can hold her own in a fight and isn't afraid to kill. And, she's got the endurance and willpower of the Fearsome Kirisakin himself!" he said, "As of right now, until the general returns, I'm going to keep her under sedation, for everyone's safety."

Firekreg didn't say anything to that regard, figuring that it would be useless anyways. Lightly, he brushed some of Garna's messy black hair off of her face. Funny thing. When she wasn't sticking you with a sharp object or taking a crowbar to your face, Garna was actually pretty cute, especially now that she was cleaned up and asleep.

"Take my advice, once she wakes up, don't leave any sharp objects where she can get to them." Firekreg warned, with a smirk.

*About an hour or so later*

Nonsurat and Firekreg had just begun getting into a heated argument over who should venture back to the asylum to make sure Arthur and Falspar hadn't gotten lost, trapped, devoured by hungry demon beasts, or any other horrifying scenarios that could be thought up.

Dragato had sat up in his bed, having a difficult time NOT overhearing the argument going on in the hall. The recovering star warrior rolled his eyes in annoyance: typical Nonsurat, always putting forward that tough, icy exterior, lest the galaxy see him for the kind-hearted marshmallow that he actually was.

"Are you listening to this?" Dragato muttered, glancing towards the still sleeping Garna and Roaren.

Meanwhile, just outside the recovery room,

"Look, you really should stay back here with Garna and your friend and let me go check on them. I've been in the area for a month and I know it pretty well!" Firekreg huffed, "I can also cover more land faster then you, Doc. I'm a giant fox, remember?"

"Who said I was planning on going by foot?" Sir Nonsurat questioned, as his cape shifted into a set of white, feathered wings, "I can fly."

"Hmmm, then why didn't you earlier?"

The two of them were so focused on their argument, neither one took notice of Sir Arthur and Sir Falspar striding down the corridor. Naturally, both green puffball knights were curious about what had sparked this heated argument between the two healers.

"Excuse me, Sir Nonsurat, Firekreg, but just what in the Sam Hell is going on here?" General Arthur questioned.

"Sam Hell." Firekreg snorted.

"General, sir! The lycan and I were discussing which one of us should go check on you and Sir Falspar, you had been gone an awfully long... time... and..." Nonsurat answered, his words getting slower and slower once he realized who he was talking too.

Now there was no hiding the bright shade of red his teal blue skin was slowly turning in his embarrassment.

"Uh-oh, I better watch out. My reputation as the class clown is being challenged." Sir Falspar smirked, slipping away from the general and into the recovery room to check on Sir Dragato.

"M-my apologies, General Arthur. That was most unbecoming of an officer in my position." Sir Nonsurat sighed, lowering his head in shame.

"It's been a long day for all of us, Sir Nonsurat," Sir Arthur admitted, removing his helmet, "There's nothing to forgive. Besides, I needed a good laugh."

Firekreg remained quiet, though he did flash Nonsurat a smile once General Arthur beckoned them to follow him into the recovery room. Sir Arthur breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that Dragato was awake and doing well. The magenta warrior and Falspar were in the middle of a friendly little chat, when Nonsurat noticed the cigarette sticking out of bard's mouth and the lighter in his hand. Much to Falspar's annoyance (and Dragato's amusement) Nonsurat simply froze the cancer stick with a flick of his hand.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to smoke in here?!" Sir Nonsurat growled.

"One more time then the last." Falspar answered, "...jackass..."

"I told you, Falspar... I told you..." Sir Dragato muttered, with a smile.

After greeting their friend and fellow warrior, it was straight back to business. Sir Falspar and Sir Arthur were quick to inform about their findings, which were very little considering all the computers and files had been wiped clean and/or completely destroyed. There were no EnEmE survivors to be found and the vast majority of the escaped lunatics had wondered off into the bog. But, the G.S.A. could take comfort in knowing that a horrendous operation had been shut down.

"I've got some volunteers rounding up those escapees. Once captured, I'll have them sent back to Dark Star." Sir Arthur informed, "We've got a G.S.A. outpost there, with one of our best hospitals. Those poor souls will get the proper care that they need."

Firekreg gave a curt nod upon hearing the news. Dark Star wasn't too far from Horva. It was however right under the enemy's nose. Perhaps the last place he would check. Clever... at least for a bunch of chivalrous knights.

"Artty and I scrounged up a few scraps, but nothing of any real value, unless of course we study into it further." Sir Falspar explained, "But I'll tell ya, if you thought the reception hall was a mess... consider yourself lucky that you didn't see the kitchen!"

"Maybe you should let me take a look then," Dragato said, holding out his hand expectantly, not to mention hopefully.

Falspar simply shook his head, "Uh-uh, you need to rest, bud," he stated firmly.

But, once Garna's stirring had grabbed everyone's attention, the sneaky bard slipped a few torn up pieces of paper salvaged from the asylum to Dragato, motioning for him to conceal them under his covers.

"Remember,"

"I know, I know, I didn't get these from you." Dragato whispered, showing signs of having done this sort of thing before with Falspar.

Groggily, Garna opened her eyes. It hadn't been what she had been expecting too see, considering that the last several hours had been a blur in and out of consciousness. No more filthy, cold, and damp stone walls. No more sadistic scientists to use her as a test subject and conduit. For the first time in years, Garna didn't feel grit and dirt on her skin or in her hair. Her injuries had been cleaned and dressed with great care, the way Firekreg had done it. It was warm, comfortable, and clean in here, wherever here was. Restraints on the other hand? Well, those were nothing that couldn't be handled when she was ready. Right now, why would she want to leave?

When her eyes focused, Garna could see a very anxious Firekreg and the four puffball knights that had assisted with her escape. There was a painful feeling in her side, from where her self-stitched wound had been. The young halfling felt something soft on her hand, then could see Roaren was right there beside her.

"Thanks... for showing up, Firekreg." Garna mumbled softly, with a smirk, "As I... said before... we should do it again sometime." she added, her sharp green eyes examining each G.S.A knight in turn, "So, how much damage... did we do? Anyone get eaten by zombies?"

Firekreg didn't answer right away, instead leaning forward to give Garna a much needed hug, "Yes, it's wonderful to see you too, Garna. Glad me and the guys here could help get you out of that hell hole. Hell, I'm glad you're feeling better!"

Once Firekreg straightened back up from a now very amused (not to mentioned stoned on pain medications) Garna, Sir Arthur saw his opportunity and stepped in.

"Garna Riverdale," Sir Arthur began, "How are you feeling?"

The girl just giggled a bit, taking some time to glance around the sterile room while pondering her answer, "I'd feel better if ol' Knarksy was dead! Is he dead? Or can I go kill him myself?"

"Ummm... I'm afraid that the mad doc got away," Falspar answered, "But I nailed him pretty good when he flew out of the tower. Crossbow bolt, right in the wing joint from at least 200 yards!"

Although Falspar had to take an opportunity to brag, Garna just gave him a strange look, as did Firekreg.

"Dude, I don't know what you've been drinking and/or smoking, but Dr. Knarks doesn't have wings." Firekreg pointed out, "He's a drow elf. So explain to me how he flew away." he added, crossing his arms.

"Ahahahahaaaa! And people call ME crazy..." Garna grumbled, "But Knarksy is a wizard, Firekreg. Maybe he used magic... like most wizards do!"

Sir Falspar stuck to his story, insisting that the monstrosity they had battled against not only WAS Dr. Knarks, but also had wings, was wearing a doctor's coat, had a tail, and a horrible reptilian visage, hands, and feet. The Bard's story sounded like some sort of bad hallucination, but became quite credible when Sir Arthur seconded it.

"Yeah, Non and I saw something like that, just before the flesh-eating monsters nearly overran us." Sir Dragato mentioned, earning an agreeing nod from Nonsurat in response.

"It was weird. It was like this guy was a monster, but he didn't exactly know HOW to be a monster. Like he had just sprouted wings, claws, and a tail or something. And don't get me started on that fire breath vomit stuff he was puking up on us. I've had some wild nights in my day, but nothing as nasty as that!" Sir Falspar mentioned, with a shudder, "And the boss says that I don't pay attention." he added, earning a stern warning glare from the general.

"That's not all. The Unholy Abomination himself, Lord Nightmare, was there as well, and he-" Sir Arthur suddenly cut himself off.

As soon as Arthur brought up Nightmare, Garna had already put two and two together and just started laughing hysterically, so much so that it had stirred Roaren out of his peaceful sleep. She mumbled unintelligibly, patting Roaren's side as best she could.

"What's so funny about that?" Sir Dragato asked, sitting up a little.

"Heheheeeee... oh come on... be more fun, isn't it obvious?!" Garna asked, sitting up as far as her bonds would allow her to, "Lord Nightmare... heheheee... he must have turned ol' Knarksy into one of his demon beasts! Haha! There is justice in this universe after all! For years, ol' Knarksy was always torturing, always mutating, always transforming his patients into demon beasts! Now the doc gets to choke on his own medicine!" she spat, before coughing and struggling with her restraints, "Don't misunderstand, o' cutest knights in the galaxy, Nightmare still needs to die too-"

"Okay, that's enough!" Sir Nonsurat declared, as he and Firekreg both pushed Garna back down into bed, "My patients have had enough excitement for a while and are in need of rest and quiet."

Although there was more Arthur would have liked to know, he had to admit that Nonsurat was right. Besides, while Dragato may have been complacent (for the most part), Garna was nearly on the verge of complete and total hysteria.

"No, no... it's not enough yet." Garna argued, her sly smile forming once again as she did her best to squirm out of Nonsurat's grip.

Nonsurat was about to say something, but stopped as Garna appeared to settle down. The strange girl let out a deep sigh and rolled her eyes, "I was hoping you'd be a lot more fun... but there's still hope for you puffballs. You see, I gots all sorts of dirty little secrets Nightmare Enterprises thought were protected." Garna explained, "It's amazing how well voices can carry through the air ducts and vents of an old keep. I was going to broadcast it over every media outlet I could break into for the whole universe to see and hear, but gift wrapping it for the G.S.A. works just as well for me." she giggled, contently as she scratched Roaren.

The little wolfwrath snuggled up against Garna, his bright blue eyes staring up at her with adoration. There was something so comforting about being around him, it made being in a strange place so much easier. Now that such a great weight was lifted from her shoulders, Garna could finally rest. Now, she could no longer fight off the need to sleep that kept on nagging at her mind.

"Garna... you know what needs to be done now." Firekreg said, his hand reaching for the cord around his neck.

"I know, Firekreg... when the time is right... I'll find you." Garna muttered.

"Hmph... if anyone can, it's you." Firekreg answered, "Now go to sleep. These are good people. You're in good hands. They wont let anything bad happen to you."

Sir Nonsurat let out another deep sigh, watching the now exhausted halfling fall back asleep. He checked over her, putting a cool, wet cloth across her forehead to help bring down that fever. When Garna was first brought in, she looked as though she hadn't slept in days. Now it was all catching up to her at once.

Then something caught Sir Nonsurat's eye; an old, tattered book sticking out of Garna's backpack. Curious, both Firekreg and Nonsurat took a look at it, Arthur and Falspar not far behind.

"Is that what she was talking about?" Sir Falspar asked, taking notice of how Dragato had pretended to doze off, but in reality was listening to every word being spoken.

Already, the first few pages were quite intriguing to say the least. It was childish handwriting, but it was legible enough to be made out. Firekreg was able to spot and point out a few codes hidden amongst the scribbled mess of letters and numbers, coordinates used by Nightmare Enterprises most likely. Nonsurat's eyes visibly widened when he came across several sets of radio frequencies and passwords, along with some specs and designs for new demon beasts and even spells the Dark Overlord was designing.

"Holy shit," Firekreg muttered, "I knew that the kid was clever, I knew she overheard things and had a good memory, but I didn't even know she had all of this written down up until now. Hell, I wasn't sure if she even knew how to read or write. Look at this, it's like Nightmare's personal diary, every single dirty little secret he's got, all in this book!"

Sir Nonsurat felt a wave of excitement and hope wash over him. If that information was accurate, then it would give the G.S.A. a much needed advantage over Nightmare's forces, especially considering that they had done everything to ensure any and all information had been deleted or destroyed before they bailed.

"General Arthur you need to see this." Sir Nonsurat stated, handing the tattered old book to the elder green puffball, "Firekreg, you had said this child could be of help to us, looks like you were right."

"Glad we could help." Firekreg answered.

At Sir Nonsurat's insistence, they left the recovery room to let Garna and Dragato have some much needed peace and quiet, taking their conversation out into the corridor.

"General," Firekreg began, taking off his necklace, "I almost forgot. When I sort of... split, shall we say, I found the closest computer I could and copied what was on it before everything was destroyed." he explained, revealing the plain, cheep-looking charm on the cord to be a thumb drive, "Originally, I was going to tell you about this part of the plan, but I was worried that all you'd do is pitch a fit."

General Arthur looked up from Garna's scrapbook of war secrets at Firekreg's explanation, shook his head with a small smile, though he accepted the lycanthrope's peace offering, "Firekreg Foxshire, you remind me of a very close friend of mine in that regard. Never seeing a need to explain until after the fact." he said, "Dare I say, you do regretfully lack his honor and chivalry."

"Hmph, I'm a just a medical assistant and part-time thief, not a knight." Firekreg shrugged, taking a look back towards Garna's room, "L-look... right now, it's not safe for me to be here. Nightmare Enterprises kind of has this "no tolerance" policy for traitors if you know what I mean. It's only a matter of time before they hunt me down, and... I've gotten enough good people burnt in the past for things I've done, and I'd rather not add you to that list too."

Sir Arthur glanced to Nonsurat and Falspar with a look of concern in his eyes, but he could understand Firekreg's reasons.

"But Firekreg, out there on your own-" Falspar began.

"Don't worry about me. Hmph, I'll play my cards in such a way, Nightmare's forces will have no choice but to go on a fox hunt. I'll get Nightmare so focused on hunting me down that he'll forget about you guys for a while. Enough so that you can find your missing friend." Firekreg explained, with a weak smile, "It's about time I started to put my talents towards something other then a quick payday."

Nonsurat opened up his mouth to say something, but no words came out at first. Finally, he cleared out that uncomfortable dryness in his throat, "I know we haven't seen eye to eye, and I initially made my distrust of you very plain... but... I'm glad to have gotten the chance to fight and practice healing beside you." he admitted at last, holding out his hand.

Without hesitation, Firekreg reached out and shook the knight's hand, accepting his gesture of friendship, "Had our places been reversed, I would have felt the same way. Besides, we'd drive each other crazy within the week!"

"Can't have you doing that. That's my job." Sir Falspar snorted, running his hand through his moehawk, "Hmph... the G.S.A. owes you a debt of gratitude for your services. Know that you are always welcome among the Stars, Noble Fox." the green puffball paused for a minute, as Sir Arthur gave him "the" look, "Oh, ummm... right, you're supposed to say all that. ...Sorry boss."

General Arthur's expression softened towards the bard, but turned right back to serious when he faced Firekreg, "As Sir Falspar said, the G.S.A. owes you a debt of gratitude for your services. Without your assistance, we may have never even found that place and Nightmare would be continuing to make his demon beasts there. But, while a setback for the enemy, this war is far from over." he informed, "I'm afraid that there isn't much that we can repay you with right now other then some fresh supplies for whatever journey lay ahead of you."

"Just... please take good care of Garna. She's known so little kindness in her life and may not completely understand how to apply herself in a more civilized setting." Firekreg requested, "Oh, and maybe a pack of smokes, a lighter, and one of those looted bottles of whiskey or scotch for the road." he tacked on.

Falspar rolled his eyes a little, even mouthing a curse word or three under his breath.

"Sir Nonsurat is one of the finest doctors in the G.S.A., Garna is in good hands." Sir Arthur answered, "But, does she know you're leaving? Do you have any way of finding her again? As you well know, we don't exactly stay in one place longer then we can help."

"She knows, I told her." Firekreg answered, "When the time is right, she'll find me. And don't forget... I contacted you guys in the first place, didn't I?"

Well, good-byes and explanations had went on for long enough. Sir Arthur needed to get the Pike Breaker in the air, and Firekreg had a promise to keep. Once the werefox had everything he needed and was ready to leave, Sir Arthur and his two officers were there too see him off.

"Firekreg!" Sir Arthur called, "Before you leave, take this with you," he added, handing Firekreg a small, star-shaped badge, similar to the ones he and all the other G.S.A. soldiers had on their armor.

The badge had some fancy engraving on the underside and what also appeared to be a personal coat of arms, "Should you ever find yourself in trouble, seek out any member of the G.S.A. and show that to them. No matter where you may be in the galaxy, there will always be someone to help you, Firekreg Foxshire."

Firekreg nodded and thanked the general before dashing off into the deep, thick cover of the bog. As he ran, his form shrank and shifted into that of a small, normal red fox. The lycanthrope perched on a low hanging tree branch, taking one last look over his shoulder, before vanishing in the foliage.

There were some things more valuable then money, intelligence, or even firepower during war, and Firekreg had secured some for himself: allies! That was what he wanted, and that was what he had earned!

"Do you think he'll be okay, boss?" Sir Falspar asked, taking this open opportunity to light up a cigarette.

"He's lasted this long, hasn't he?" Sir Arthur answered, taking one last look into the bog, particularly where the smoke was rising in the distance from the ruined asylum, "Now then... about that stiff drink you had offered, good bard?" he added with a sigh.

"Now you're talkin' boss. That's one order I can't refuse." Sir Falspar said, as the three of them closed the Pike Breaker's main door and headed towards the lounge for some much needed rest after the day's events.

"Just a quick one for me, then it's back to the medical bay." Nonsurat sighed, "One mentally unstable patient and the other all too eager to get back to work."

Well, Lord Nightmare and the mysterious yet cruel Dr. Knarks may have escaped with their lives, but today was a victory for the Knights of the G.S.A. While Garna and Dragato were recovering, that gave ample time to look over the treasure trove of information Garna and Firekreg had both provided for them. And as that old saying goes, to the victor goes the spoils, Sir Falspar, as he had promised, had salvaged a few of the finer things from the mad doctor's office, including a fabulous bottle of 12 year old scotch to toast their victory.

:: Far from "The End"... really... (Come on, there's still a missing knight to find!) ::

 **Author's Notes::** Ah, I figured that now was as good as any time to post the last part of this little mini-series I've been working on. It was a fun switch up from IYNM and after working on this, I actually felt inspired enough to pick up on In your Nightmares again.

If you've enjoyed my Kirby/Meta Knight fanfic In your Nightmares, you'll probably enjoy this too. Garna was REALLY messed up there for a time. It was fun giving personalities and writing the other four warriors in Sir Meta Knight's unit and filling in some of Garna Riverdale's backstory and why she likes, admires, and assists the G.S.A. any way she can. Plus... ROAREN AS A PUPPY!

 **Disclaimer::** Firekreg Foxshire, Garna Riverdale, Dr. Knarks, and Nasher belong to me.

Kirby, Meta Knight, Sir Arthur, Sir Nonsurat, Sir Dragato, Sir Falspar, and all related characters © Nintendo and HAL Laboratories.


End file.
